i achub, nid wyf yn ddim

 

electra, I get this sense, today —almost an alarm that blares ….it is something so intangible ~as though, I feel something may not have been fully disclosed; that something is just not right somehow…. and it feels something like a tremor of a needle going off ….what is it? where does it come from ….as to why, and then I question —what could be the real reason ….I wonder what, some act of deception

and why should it have power over me? 

the shift in the eye; the secret agenda….

I don’t know where the feeling comes from but it disarms the whole of me in terror— and I suppose at the root of it, I guess for me —it is, it feels, you see, only as if ~the only purpose is ….just for the sport of it…. like I am the object; the toy —and I am nothing…. but disposable ….how much I detest this sense I can feel

and well it is that…. you see….it makes me go back to how it always felt when ….with my mother; what she did to me. and so —reach for that dangerous place —the trigger within; to destroy itself— and jettisoned into that dark abyss until …. nid wyf yn ddim