boys
A lot of travelling to turn up some where and find out you were supposed to turn up half an hour earlier without the dude. Only half my fuck up. He spent the time we did have scratching his bites, messing around on his seat and refusing to talk about anything.
How do we stop hating the fact that we can't give him everything he needs? We could probably meet more of his needs if we weren't so aware of what we can't do. It's been built of course and forced on us and knowing makes it feel even harder to address properly.
When are we going to start feeling him easier to engage with now we are not barred from remembering baby Malcolm, Malcolm and Ben? Shouldnt it of happened by now? Bloody wet ware.
Thank god no one speaks to us and those who do don't ask questions much. Couldn't give a vague but confident overview of events on the ward like we could our life.. Fuck sake..There wasn't just a "Good Doctor" readers.. there was a "Bad Doctor" too. We woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't there. Found him plataued in front of the telly. Curled up on his lap and watched something that made us laugh and he laughed to, mostly at us laughing rather than whatever it was we were watching. It ended and I started to feel wretched and he got us to munch down some pill or other and wash it down with whatever Doctory spirit he was knocking back. Can't remember what the pill was but it was fucking awesome.
...
Someone had to make sure they were here, they had to be here. They had to see it was all down. I had to see them. All that shit had been between us for so long and for so many years there was only ever more of it and know it was all gone. I had to see them before we could let go. We knew. Then there was a tap at door and everyone knew it was them even if they didn't know who my "boys" were. My god they don't look like boys any more but they so still are. We talked about how we could remember how we had unique cry for each one of them and the time when we kept making a fuss and slowing everyone done and the place we were headed to got hit with some serious missiles as they approached. A life time of questions from all sides and in so many ways "how could you know?". We weren't talking about that now though. We told them it matter when some of us forgot because someone had given us the tapes so we could watch it over and over and it we always knew it was us because we would recognise our cry.
All that very real terror. It's not like an attempted rape or murder attempt.. if someone points that at us and pulls this or pushes that it's all over for us. Just over.. That terror to be removed is quite something.
How do we stop hating the fact that we can't give him everything he needs? We could probably meet more of his needs if we weren't so aware of what we can't do. It's been built of course and forced on us and knowing makes it feel even harder to address properly.
When are we going to start feeling him easier to engage with now we are not barred from remembering baby Malcolm, Malcolm and Ben? Shouldnt it of happened by now? Bloody wet ware.
Thank god no one speaks to us and those who do don't ask questions much. Couldn't give a vague but confident overview of events on the ward like we could our life.. Fuck sake..There wasn't just a "Good Doctor" readers.. there was a "Bad Doctor" too. We woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't there. Found him plataued in front of the telly. Curled up on his lap and watched something that made us laugh and he laughed to, mostly at us laughing rather than whatever it was we were watching. It ended and I started to feel wretched and he got us to munch down some pill or other and wash it down with whatever Doctory spirit he was knocking back. Can't remember what the pill was but it was fucking awesome.
...
Someone had to make sure they were here, they had to be here. They had to see it was all down. I had to see them. All that shit had been between us for so long and for so many years there was only ever more of it and know it was all gone. I had to see them before we could let go. We knew. Then there was a tap at door and everyone knew it was them even if they didn't know who my "boys" were. My god they don't look like boys any more but they so still are. We talked about how we could remember how we had unique cry for each one of them and the time when we kept making a fuss and slowing everyone done and the place we were headed to got hit with some serious missiles as they approached. A life time of questions from all sides and in so many ways "how could you know?". We weren't talking about that now though. We told them it matter when some of us forgot because someone had given us the tapes so we could watch it over and over and it we always knew it was us because we would recognise our cry.
All that very real terror. It's not like an attempted rape or murder attempt.. if someone points that at us and pulls this or pushes that it's all over for us. Just over.. That terror to be removed is quite something.
