So, I
started this blog to talk about my personal problems, but the truth is, I’m not
sure where to go next. There’s not a lot
more to say than I covered in the initial post. I don’t know where the feelings
(I like the term Beast more, but that’s probably just my machismo talking
again) come from. I had normal, loving
parents. Some things they’ve said, I get
the impression that there’s a history of mental illness farther along the
family tree, but I haven’t pressed them to explain it directly. That would start a conversation I’m not quite
ready to have.
In
semi-unrelated news, the neighbors have a new dog. A big black one, I’m not
sure of the breed, but maybe a mastiff of some sort? If I had to guess, I’d say
it was a watch dog. It definitely kept its eye on me from the moment I opened
the door, and even though it didn’t bark or show its teeth or move from its
prone position in the shade of the elm tree, you could just tell that it wasn’t
the sort of animal you wanted to screw with.
No sign
of the yapbag. Maybe the new dog ate it.
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