Except for you.

I am posting a lot of my writings. They are in no particular order for now. Most of this is very old and from a long time ago.

I was so disappointed. I was writing both books. And the second book was the doozy. Was the real feat. The one that took me years, decades.

And she was encouraging me, but she won’t read it. I was really angry, sad, frustrated, and disappointed by that. Makes me want to scream.

But I know what it is. She doesn’t want to see herself in the book. And she doesn’t want to lay down her own victim card if she has to read about things that were worse that happened to me.

Have they read it? I sometimes wonder.

Did they feel any remorse? Probably anger first.

Probably started to write their side of the story. And then in doing so realized how wrong they were.

Go to therapy? Intense treatment?

Maybe they’ll apologize someday. But I don’t even want to go there. Because then that’s me feeling sorry for them when it should be the other way around. They should be wanting to truly help me. Not their bullshit attempts at control.

But people don’t seem to change. It would be cool if they did. Not that I’d ever want to see them in person again. But it would be nice if they truly changed.

Some nuts are harder to crack. They knows better. But they won’t do better. Their heart is stone cold. Seems like.

They know. How could they not?

And to not say anything to me? What the fuck is that about?

I want to write more. I need to. There is so much.

And they have their own, to be sure.


Murder? To be with others.

Who knew? Who suspected? Is that why they are “sick” all the time? Because of their secrets?

Maybe they also experienced the same and didn’t want to admit they’d waited so long just to marry into what they were trying to escape?

I’m really unhappy with others. At least some tried. But they won’t see me all the way through. Just more that want to stick their head in the sand. The tradition.

Except for me.

And I thought except for you, J. Not everything, but you were like me – the truth teller. The person calling people out on their bullshit.

Not for the sake of. L does it for the sake of. She is mean in doing it.

But no, you wanted healing. I know you did. Fully confident of that.

But people didn’t listen to you like they didn’t listen to me. I thought we had that shared experience and were helping each other walk through that.

All for what? For nothing? Just to go down in an ugly flame? Just for you to die without us ever resolving things?

That makes me feel so sad to think that is the end of our story. I hope not.

How am I supposed to ever move on and try again after you? I don’t even want to.

I tell myself to do it. I try to be all nonchalant about the seven billion other people in the world. But I don’t want them. I want you. I’m not even thinking of them. I’m thinking of you. I’ve been thinking of you.

Music I’m listening to, discovered, or rediscovered.

  1. 2 Chainz – Can’t Go For That
  2. Al-D*300 ft. Lil Keke & Big Pokey – Silver & Gold
  3. Caskey – From The Bleacher To The Field
  4. Caskey – Onlyfans
  7. King Kyle Lee – Let Me Know
  8. LaRussell, Julia Lewis – B*tch I’m Me (Live at The Pergola)
  9. Propain, Sauce Walka, Z-Ro – H-Town (Remix)
  10. Young Dolph, Snupe Bandz ft. PaperRoute Woo – South Memphis Rugrats (Remix)

Other content I’ve consumed.

  1. He was just trying to help
  2. It’s about the progress
  3. She’s in her 70’s and doing THIS
  4. The craziest yo-yo skills
  5. This is a core memory
  6. This just makes NO sense
  8. This was way too entertaining
  9. Too smooth
  10. W coaches
  11. Yes he was okay!

Mural around South Alamo Street and Lavaca Street in San Antonio.

Calvo Murals.