Dear who:

Is that right, who, do you mean it? You know how difficult it is… now I wonder if you are sincere. Because you said you lie to people. Now, how do I know?

Going for a long walk. Will be back later:
anita

Dear who:

Wow, you care so much about what I wrote above? My goodness. I had no idea you would take it to heart. I was suspicious of you when I wrote the post you are referring to. I thought you were kind of making fun of me writing that you will now go about healing. That is in the post on page one (don’t have it in front of me). I thought YOU were making fun of ME. I thought you were pointing a finger at me, laughing at me. And you thought, in your last post, that I was pointing a finger at you calling you a liar.

Well, there we go. Isn’t it amazing? Often enough the world is indeed cruel, like you wrote. But some of the times, it is about inaccurate projections. Meaning, I ask you, in the last post on page one you were NOT making fun of me?

anita

I don’t want to see who go?
who, that’s who.
come back who.
Who:
You mentioned something about you feeling patronised by people because of your lack of status. I can relate to that. That is one of the worst aspects of having no leverage, a lowly status position in life. As I get older and just hold down the occasional entry level job for a few months or years, I notice a gradual erosion of self-belief, and lack of respect from others. Notice how the successful guy gets the rapt audience? People hang on to his every word whereas Jaundiced Jack, is more often than not the butt of others people’s jokes. “poor old Jack, just give him the sack!”

Dear who:

Glad to read your latest post! Water under the bridge is good. (relief). Thank you for the words… Love, love that word, hard for me to use it. Feel your sentiment and I believe it is mutual. I am honest here. You are honest here. And Jack, yes, he is honest. Love honest (and I used the word!)

Bedtime for me, early, only 8:30 pm Sunday. It is 12:30 pm Monday in Australia where Jack and his panting dog may be at this time, or on the way (hi Jack, like the new word, Jack the unnice) and in Louisiana it is 11:30 pm, Sunday night. Keeping record. Till tomorrow, good night/ good day-
anita

I’m honest
So honest I can’t even tell my dog a lie
“Hey Rover. If you sit down here and be a nice boy
I’ll give you a huge bone”
Well OK, the bone wasn’t so big. You could argue I told a lie there.
I’m transparent, invisible, you can see right through me.

I have no skeletons in the closet
The people I murdered (skeletons) are buried in the backyard.

That was an attempt at black/dark humour. Did I succeed? Or have I turned you off Jack for ever?

• This reply was modified 9 years ago by jock.

Dear who:

I enjoyed my own joke enriched with your tape recorder addition. At 37, you could be my son, if I had you at 18. This is how old I am. But, about age, I say it to myself every evening: all I have is this evening and this night and maybe tomorrow morning. This is all I ever have and this is all I will ever have, every evening, just this evening… and maybe the morning after.

Jack loves to play with words. “An overweight Aussie…” Hilarious.

I like the username, who. I might be the only person on this site with my real name as my username.
anita