Lonely Loneliness

Message to Lisa

Question:

- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -Limbo wrote in message <3b510…@iridium.webone.com.au>… ><lgard…@mbay.net> wrote in message >news:tl0ote4t746md5@corp.supernews.com… >> Limbo wrote in message <3b4f2…@iridium.webone.com.au>… >> >L, Lisa >> >Cold treatment of our empress >> >L, Lisa >> >The transient Universe >> >L, Lisa >> >Instant communication and communion >> >Lamerica >> >emeralds in glass >> >Lamerica >> >searchlights at the twilight >> >Lamerica >> >stoned streets in the pale dawn >> >Lamerica >> >robbed in exile >> >Lamerica >> >swift beat of a proud heart >> >Lamerica >> >eyes like twenty >> >Lamerica >> >swift dream >> >Lamerica >> >frozen heart >> >Lamerica >> >soldiers doom >> >Lamerica >> >clouds and struggles >> >Lamerica >> >Nighthawk >> >doomed from the start >> >Lamerica >> >"That’s how I met her, >> >Lamerica >> >lonely and frozen >> >Lamerica >> >and sullen yes >> >Lamerica >> >right from the start" >> >Then stop >> >Go >> >The wilderness between >> >Go round the march >> If I am your empress then yes, I sure as hell am being treated >> coldly. That’s for damn sure. If I am not your empress, then I sure >> as hell am being treated coldly, that’s for sure. If I am only Lisa Agnes >> Gardner, then I sure as hell am being treated coldly, that’s for sure. >> I am being treated with a total lack of understanding, and I am >> being treated with cold and with abuse. Maybe this is the reason >> for some of the loneliness? Maybe this is the reason for some of >> the sullen-ness? And that was only really towards my mother, who >> was extremely abusive towards me both physically, mentally, >> and emotionally. You sound like you might be talking from my >> mother’s perspective. >> The slapping hand, the knives, the buried stories of deep hurting >> wives. My life like a topsy-turvy pile of delicately balanced glasses >> that got smashed and now sometimes seems broken beyond repair. >> Me living most of my life in fright and disorientation and a constant >> state of wariness, trying to avoid the swinging hand and all that other >> stuff. I have only managed to get free of some of this fear in >> the last six years or so of my life. To do this has taken  a tremendous, >> huge effort on my part. >> I had a dream where I was laying down on a floor. A man was >> helping me to pile wine glasses one on top of the other to make >> a kind of ‘wine-glass’ sculpture. The thing had gotten about >> two feet tall or so. Then I was overcome with despair in the >> dream and feelings of needing to give up because I felt like >> everything was just broken beyond repair. I said to the man, >> ‘This is my life’ and then I took my right hand and smashed the >> whole pile of glasses into fragments. >> That’s how I sometimes feel: that things in me must be broken >> beyond repair and that only god can heal me. >> But I have something very beautiful and living in me. I am going to >> try to nurture that thing. >> So I am not sure what you are telling me here: in your poem am >> I once again the big, bad thing that argues well and makes sense >> (and that is a learned skill, I had to learn that through the study of >mathematics) >> and so is cold? Or am I the one who is misunderstood and treated >> coldly? Because I definitely see myself as the latter. So please tell >> me straight out: what is it that you are trying to say to me, Limbo? >> Lisa >Lisa……….I like you a lot and that includes respect and wish to become >reacquainted after that nasty episode a few weeks back………I to am >tertiary educated in science and deeply regret any of the confusion and >hostility that occurred some time ago……….believe me it was not a >personal attack but a difference of opinion and a lack of sensibility on >both our parts…………please forgive me………..I only wish we can >bury that past and resurrect a bright and fulfilling future that is mutually >beneficial to the both of us and others……….supportive and loving. >The above poem I sent to you was conciliatory in nature ……please to not >read anything beyond that in to it. >Here’s hoping for a future……….best wishes >Limbo >ps- I am no way representative of your mother………my soul is borne of >love and compassion >Do you understand now Lisa ???

Not really, no. but I do understand that you do not wish me any ill will, and that feels good to me. I feel that I have so much ill will directed towards me night and day in an unending stream, both from external sources and internal sources that should not be that close to me given what they are and how they feel about me- and I am not too very sure, still, why this is. I think I have something valuable within. Maybe someone seeks to kill it or exploit it or something, or to obliterate my increasing strength and self-confidence. I dunno. Thank you for explaining though, I appreciate it. The poem was beautiful. I understand that you now do not wish me any ill will. Thank you for that. Lisa

Response:

<lgard…@mbay.net> wrote in message

news:tl0ote4t746md5@corp.supernews.com… – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -> Limbo wrote in message <3b4f2…@iridium.webone.com.au>… > >L, Lisa > >Cold treatment of our empress > >L, Lisa > >The transient Universe > >L, Lisa > >Instant communication and communion > >Lamerica > >emeralds in glass > >Lamerica > >searchlights at the twilight > >Lamerica > >stoned streets in the pale dawn > >Lamerica > >robbed in exile > >Lamerica > >swift beat of a proud heart > >Lamerica > >eyes like twenty > >Lamerica > >swift dream > >Lamerica > >frozen heart > >Lamerica > >soldiers doom > >Lamerica > >clouds and struggles > >Lamerica > >Nighthawk > >doomed from the start > >Lamerica > >"That’s how I met her, > >Lamerica > >lonely and frozen > >Lamerica > >and sullen yes > >Lamerica > >right from the start" > >Then stop > >Go > >The wilderness between > >Go round the march > If I am your empress then yes, I sure as hell am being treated > coldly. That’s for damn sure. If I am not your empress, then I sure > as hell am being treated coldly, that’s for sure. If I am only Lisa Agnes > Gardner, then I sure as hell am being treated coldly, that’s for sure. > I am being treated with a total lack of understanding, and I am > being treated with cold and with abuse. Maybe this is the reason > for some of the loneliness? Maybe this is the reason for some of > the sullen-ness? And that was only really towards my mother, who > was extremely abusive towards me both physically, mentally, > and emotionally. You sound like you might be talking from my > mother’s perspective. > The slapping hand, the knives, the buried stories of deep hurting > wives. My life like a topsy-turvy pile of delicately balanced glasses > that got smashed and now sometimes seems broken beyond repair. > Me living most of my life in fright and disorientation and a constant > state of wariness, trying to avoid the swinging hand and all that other > stuff. I have only managed to get free of some of this fear in > the last six years or so of my life. To do this has taken  a tremendous, > huge effort on my part. > I had a dream where I was laying down on a floor. A man was > helping me to pile wine glasses one on top of the other to make > a kind of ‘wine-glass’ sculpture. The thing had gotten about > two feet tall or so. Then I was overcome with despair in the > dream and feelings of needing to give up because I felt like > everything was just broken beyond repair. I said to the man, > ‘This is my life’ and then I took my right hand and smashed the > whole pile of glasses into fragments. > That’s how I sometimes feel: that things in me must be broken > beyond repair and that only god can heal me. > But I have something very beautiful and living in me. I am going to > try to nurture that thing. > So I am not sure what you are telling me here: in your poem am > I once again the big, bad thing that argues well and makes sense > (and that is a learned skill, I had to learn that through the study of mathematics) > and so is cold? Or am I the one who is misunderstood and treated > coldly? Because I definitely see myself as the latter. So please tell > me straight out: what is it that you are trying to say to me, Limbo? > Lisa

Lisa……….I like you a lot and that includes respect and wish to become reacquainted after that nasty episode a few weeks back………I to am tertiary educated in science and deeply regret any of the confusion and hostility that occurred some time ago……….believe me it was not a personal attack but a difference of opinion and a lack of sensibility on both our parts…………please forgive me………..I only wish we can bury that past and resurrect a bright and fulfilling future that is mutually beneficial to the both of us and others……….supportive and loving. The above poem I sent to you was conciliatory in nature ……please to not read anything beyond that in to it. Here’s hoping for a future……….best wishes Limbo ps- I am no way representative of your mother………my soul is borne of love and compassion Do you understand now Lisa ??? Limbo

Response:

- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -Limbo wrote in message <3b4f2…@iridium.webone.com.au>… >L, Lisa >Cold treatment of our empress >L, Lisa >The transient Universe >L, Lisa >Instant communication and communion >Lamerica >emeralds in glass >Lamerica >searchlights at the twilight >Lamerica >stoned streets in the pale dawn >Lamerica >robbed in exile >Lamerica >swift beat of a proud heart >Lamerica >eyes like twenty >Lamerica >swift dream >Lamerica >frozen heart >Lamerica >soldiers doom >Lamerica >clouds and struggles >Lamerica >Nighthawk >doomed from the start >Lamerica >"That’s how I met her, >Lamerica >lonely and frozen >Lamerica >and sullen yes >Lamerica >right from the start" >Then stop >Go >The wilderness between >Go round the march

If I am your empress then yes, I sure as hell am being treated coldly. That’s for damn sure. If I am not your empress, then I sure as hell am being treated coldly, that’s for sure. If I am only Lisa Agnes Gardner, then I sure as hell am being treated coldly, that’s for sure. I am being treated with a total lack of understanding, and I am being treated with cold and with abuse. Maybe this is the reason for some of the loneliness? Maybe this is the reason for some of the sullen-ness? And that was only really towards my mother, who was extremely abusive towards me both physically, mentally, and emotionally. You sound like you might be talking from my mother’s perspective. The slapping hand, the knives, the buried stories of deep hurting wives. My life like a topsy-turvy pile of delicately balanced glasses that got smashed and now sometimes seems broken beyond repair. Me living most of my life in fright and disorientation and a constant state of wariness, trying to avoid the swinging hand and all that other stuff. I have only managed to get free of some of this fear in the last six years or so of my life. To do this has taken  a tremendous, huge effort on my part. I had a dream where I was laying down on a floor. A man was helping me to pile wine glasses one on top of the other to make a kind of ‘wine-glass’ sculpture. The thing had gotten about two feet tall or so. Then I was overcome with despair in the dream and feelings of needing to give up because I felt like everything was just broken beyond repair. I said to the man, ‘This is my life’ and then I took my right hand and smashed the whole pile of glasses into fragments. That’s how I sometimes feel: that things in me must be broken beyond repair and that only god can heal me. But I have something very beautiful and living in me. I am going to try to nurture that thing. So I am not sure what you are telling me here: in your poem am I once again the big, bad thing that argues well and makes sense (and that is a learned skill, I had to learn that through the study of mathematics) and so is cold? Or am I the one who is misunderstood and treated coldly? Because I definitely see myself as the latter. So please tell me straight out: what is it that you are trying to say to me, Limbo? Lisa

Response:

L, Lisa Cold treatment of our empress L, Lisa The transient Universe L, Lisa Instant communication and communion Lamerica emeralds in glass Lamerica searchlights at the twilight Lamerica stoned streets in the pale dawn Lamerica robbed in exile Lamerica swift beat of a proud heart Lamerica eyes like twenty Lamerica swift dream Lamerica frozen heart Lamerica soldiers doom Lamerica clouds and struggles Lamerica Nighthawk doomed from the start Lamerica "That’s how I met her, Lamerica lonely and frozen Lamerica and sullen yes Lamerica right from the start" Then stop Go The wilderness between Go round the march

Response:

Filed under: Overcome loneliness

Related Posts

• Leviticus, Romans, FAGS
• The Wishing Star
• Lonely not allowed
• old feelings
• Shy&lonely near Mountain View, CA?
• Oh how i wish
• Scared and alone....
• Various Phantom Menaces
• Jerryo meets Robert, in person
• How many will commit suicide?