Not by might and not by power but by his good will alone...

From ::his:: Journal:

Yesterday, I moved back to my parents house like I promised. And I had finished all 5 stages of grieving in about a day. Mentally ill and co-dependent? Give me a break! While I was moving my stuff, nurispark told my sister to make sure that I got counselling. When my youngest brother heard about it, he wanted to hurt him. flamekaat and philopsychphys had made similar vows, but I asked them not to do anything because I'm sure it would have made things worse. It's time to end the drama; I grow weary of it. flamekaat says that if she didn't live hundreds of miles away, she'd do something anyway. I love my friends and family and they love me; what more could I ask for?

When his youngest brother, the drug addict and dealer who's run away from home twice and lived on the streets sat next to me at ::his:: birthday dinner and told me if I ever hurt his brother he'd hurt or kill me (honestly, I can't remember which threat it was.) I took his seriously and now I know how glad I am I keep the front door locked.
I'm not sure who flamekaat or philopsychphys... but seeing how the former is far away and a girl (I don't really care for random unknown girls' opinions)... and the latter... I don't know either... I'm gonna say that

1. they both need to grow up and
2. who the fuck cares? Certainly not me.

Does ::he::? He spouts all this nonsense of non-violent communication, but he doesn't know how to utilize it. He can dodge, turn and perry my beliefs that he is disturbed on a very deep and personal level (definitely brought down by the abuse of his alcoholic father) and his permissive attitude towards his brother and sister's(former) addictions and continuations of bad habits.

I knew that I shouldn't have read ::his:: entry, but Danielle told me so... and so did ::his:: internet friend, (who apparently thinks ::he:: is a basket case anyway.) But I had to see for myself how far he would stretch his logic to find some semblance of reality that he could live with.
He can villianize me really well... saying I told him to shut up, and other such untruths. Ah well, as long as he sleeps at night. I gave up thinking I'll find the b'shereta... I was wrong to force myself into thinking I'd [re]found myself or it never existed in the first place and it's just folklore (which, if I can't commit to believing in diety-magic, I'm gonna guess this whole soul thing... a lot harder to digest.)

He thinks I should apologize to him for dating him when he was in fact the one who kept pushing for something.

Ooo... and he thinks my writing style is all over the place... because apparently I'm writing for his edification.

Why does he think it's got to be about us or him or me? It's all very confusing -- but luckily, I shall waste no more time writing about how much I consider ::him:: a matter of the county psychiatric department.

I'd sooner keep the trash in the garbage cans than the drama he cooked up.
Janet and Carly had it right:

o/~

Gotta chip upon your shoulder/ I just knocked it off/ Show me what you gonna do/ I ain't 'bout to run/ You have just run out of ammunition/ Shootin' blanks now/ You son of a gun

I'd like to keep the trash and throw you out.

o/~
oh wait... I did.