Blessed are those who mourn

It seems this may be the point of life. And anything else may be a reaction or escape from it. All life ends in death. And death brings mourning. Why is it called morning? And it seems everyone is trying to escape the grief. Including me. Constantly. I have a lot of grief. Now I am grieving Stacey and possibly a fantasy. I thought for sure she would meet me and we could be friends. I swear I asked her to meet me before, but I don’t remmeber it. I asked her to meet me at pleasure point. But there was a surf competition there. There’s something about Americans. Constantly building. Defining. Conoartmebtalizing. Escaping the grief and the pain possibly. I have a lot going on. I look to a hope that’s a Stacey can resolve it. She can’t. Meeting her won’t resolve all this for me. Maybe she can tell. I am frustrated with my mom having cancer and am judging her for her reaction to it. I always judge her. I am going to make amends with her for judging her. That’s the next step. And the poor counselor at the emeline center. I brought a homeless woman in there a year ago thinking I could solve something. I couldn’t solve anything and I was a part of the problem. Narcissistic. I may try to make amends with that counselor. It hurts to realize how wrong I was, but I was just doing my best to help. You have to try and that involves making mistakes. But I can’t do it without trying.

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