written permission

I promised my PA that I would not kill myself unless I saw her first.. great.. so I am keeping myself busy, wondering what is wrong with all these people. I am a bit tired but I get a few things done. Then I can’t sleep and I have terrifying dreams that are so vivid and real that it is too much for the day. I have needs.. not even wants.. just needs..basic needs.. clothes for the kids, lunch for the kids, bus passes, clothes that might fit and two pairs of sneakers for PE classes.. I am ready for good things to start happening.. Where is that HIV positive Black Man that is looking for love? who doesn’t want to die alone? what is the hold up??? People are not suppose to burden the load alone. I just released that the memory I have about the meetings at the library and the conversations had and friends made, and so forth like a five year memory of work done and things succeeded was just a dream.. none of it was real.. Five years of what had been a productive period of my life is 1)gone and 2) not real.. I want something real i can touch and hold on to.. It is hard when you can no longer remember what is a real memory and what is just HIV eating up parts of your brain and leaving poop in the place.. I may not be able to wait till I get written permission..

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