My hallucination was this: sears tower gossip

delta, group sex, boys, lesbians., fatwomen having sex, gossip, asian, alice fredlund, michael cera, music previews, bondage, celebrityporn, fat girls having sex., sexual excitement, new york, media, actors, miscellaneous, housewives, It's a sears tower killer, though, in relationships. Love My sears tower parents didn't become what they were out of nowhere. They were both abused as children. I used to think they weren't at fault for passing it on to me, but then I had children, and I changed my mind. Although I can't get my parents out of me, I make sure I'm not sticking them into my kids, by not doing the things I've been taught — like getting a temporary fix by huffing my sears tower kids' affection.     I believe my mother loved me, but her love was a transactional thing. If I filled her up, and didn't contradict her dream of what and who we were together, then she would giggle and caress and compliment me, and not do anything scary. I remember lying on the plaid couch as a young girl, picturing grown men entering my vagina with their erect penises and peeing in me. They'd keep peeing until it would come out of my mouth and ears and nose and eyes. I believe now those men were actually supposed to be my mother.
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My hallucination was this: the clatter of forks scraping plates and teeth got louder and louder and louder, then the entire diner shifted. Furniture and people slipped down the gossip angle like in an earthquake, though no one seemed to notice. Forks and knives were flying through the air, stabbing gossip people. And then I saw my ghost-arms rise up from my lap where my real arms lay, reach across the table and gossip strangle my mother furiously, pitilessly. I think it lasted five minutes, or one. When it was over, I was shaken, but my mother was oblivious, still full-speed ahead in her diatribe.     To this day, I can't let people watch me eat or share my plate. I don't like to be looked at at all, in fact, outside of a sexual context. If another person is in my bed, I can barely sleep. It's good for my job, this alertness, because I watch everything and everybody closely all the time, always looking for clues as to the underlying motivation, and that's pretty much what a writer needs to do.
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