“Kids talk to imaginary friends they give various names to. Adults talk to an imaginary friend they call God. Only the kids are smart enough to know their friend is just a creation of their own imagination.” 

Love this one! Even so, someone on my-diary told me they would say a prayer on my behalf because “anyone who’s stupid enough to believe that an explosion could create life needs all the help they can get!” 

Funny, though, how I only need “help” when I disagree with one’s POV or belief. Really, how come I don’t need help when it comes to the things I happen to agree with people on? It’s only when my beliefs differ from others that I “need help.” Funny, ain’t it? 

How come their God or whatever they choose to call it is great when something good happens to them? But when something bad happens it’s “God’s will” or simply “meant to be that way?” Never could it be that their God is, well, perhaps not so perfect and loving after all if it even really does exist. I must need help for wondering these things, don’t I? I must! 

My favorite color is pink. Is yours blue? Well, if it is then do I need help? Do I need help because I’m not sure if God exists, good or evil? Do I need help because I don’t like the spicy foods and citrus fruits most people like? Do I need help because I’m antisocial and love to spend time with my hubby or by myself? Do I need help because I don’t have any sympathy for most of today’s blacks? Do I need help because I won’t embrace the refugees with open arms? Come on, what else do I need help with? Tell me. There must be tons of things for we can’t all think alike after all, can we? Therefore, I must need help. 

But what if I think along the lines of Person A, but not Person B? If Person A thinks I’m A-Okay for thinking/feeling/believing as they do, do I still need help in Person B’s eyes? Hmm… something to ponder, right? 

If I got a bleeding heart for blacks and Muslims, got in a car and drove to a job outside of home every day, and believed in a God I expressed much faith in, then damn would I be one seriously loved and ok chica, wouldn’t I? 

But then that awful side of me emerges. That true side that just loves to be real and speak her mind. It squeezes to the surface only to piss off, offend, anger, hurt, scar, disrupt and ruin so many lives in such a horrible, atrocious way. OMG, I must, must, must need help! 

Help meeeeeee!!!!! 

Then again, life has always treated me unfairly, hasn’t it? I’m the girl that would be charged as an accomplice if she were kidnapped and made to do unthinkable things while others would be considered hostages and victims. I’m the kind that would watch others go up and get the people they wanted while I got everyone I didn’t want before meeting Tom. And if I came close as I did with Kasey, I’d lose it pretty damn fast, wouldn’t I? 

I wonder, though… what if I’d been straight only? Would I still have had a hard time getting the guys I wanted before meeting Tom? My guess is yes. I couldn’t get Mike M, after all, yet another student got him. I was always very particular, especially when I was younger. Very few people turned me on – like really turned me on – so they were bound to be unobtainable for a variety of reasons. 

Found the perfect recipient for my dream journal. They’re on one of the curves along OL and have a box for newspapers and magazines. It’s right on the road and there are no neighbors across the street. 

Dreamed that Tom and I were getting into the pool. In the dream, a cluster of mailboxes was nearby. We passed Joe as he was loading them up with the day’s mail and exchanged greetings. 

I then got into the pool, which had two sets of steps, one at each front corner. I sort of hopped from one set of steps to the other. I felt self-conscious. Joe was watching me. I wanted to dive under the water and swim to the other end, but the water was a gross cloudy jade green so I didn’t.