Home is not where the heart is. It never has been. Auburn Street Concord New Hampshire, not At Home!
It is by far the most pretentious and stereotypical white bread neighborhood north of the Mississippi and south of the Canadian border.
So, stay and be miserable? . I’m not trying to be mean but the homophobia and finger pointing is beyond compare. I don’t think I’ve ever been happy there. Not with the forced gratuities on the Cape with Marcie the Super Cousin. Not with the faculty from State of New Nowhere University. Not with Mother Theresa offering up my lack of accomplishments like hor- d’oeuvres at a UNH X-mas party for passed on professors.
Something I don’t share….I cry every night before bed…I am indeed what most men would want to take home to meet their mothers. Quiet and stupid without authority.
In May, the progress I’ve made will revert back to, yes, Mum. No, Daddy! Did I clean my room? Yes, now can I go out and play…no, I promise I’ll only hang out with myself and not come in contact with anyone who has different beliefs than I. Or, should I say, you?
I will hoard dirty dishes, I will eat like no tomorrow, I will mistake my pills for PRN’s and I will avoid anything referring to adulthood.
This will be the course of action that Ambien Grace will take from the moment she unhooks herself from a free volunteering ride and sets sail upon the distant shore of fantasy movies and bad hair music. The thoughts will come back as they always do…
Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if I found a new home? How would I go about making a new home? I have no skills other than basic ideas on how to take pictures of trees. I don’t do well in crowds or speaking to others for extended periods of time. I slur my speech and on frequent occasions, I stutter. Anxiety is what my mother builds her hold over me with.
To top it off, I’ve become the Blob in the movie, Weird Science! Larger than fiction and most certainly, truthfully fat am I. Giving up smoking is one thing but this I didn’t bargain for. The dimples have left my cheeks and moved south to the other cheeks. My breasts are in need of a motorized Scooter and for the most part, I’ve seem to have lost the willingness to care about any of it.
I went to a spot today to try and find me but…
I went to the only spot I could think of you possibly being at.
Of course. You weren’t there. But I actually tried for once in my life. Because you mean the world to me
Sorry my sentence is horrible…I’m sorta crying…
Needless to say, I didn’t find me.
back rooms and alley ways of a homophobic America
Quick question for the fans of Ambien Grace:
If your heart knows you better than you know yourself…how can that be if you are heartless?
Filed under: concord nh, conformity, dumbing down generation, dysfunctional family, gay culture, gracing photography, homophobia, keene state college, mental health, new hampshire, NH Higher Ed, plymouth state university, randomwordbyruth, sexual identity crisis, ugliness, Uncategorized, unh, volunteering Tagged: Ambien Grace, Beckett Couvillion, Blob, Marcie, May, Mississippi, Mother Teresa, New Hampshire, travels with annie grace, United States, White bread
