I really didn’t want to let this one into my cozy little mental cottage at all. I just got through picking up all the wadded tissues from Victim’s visit, and now this.
Blame is an angry dragon, first cousin to Victim, and she does breathe fire. The walls are scorched and sooty, and I will be a while washing them down.
Blame’s motto is, IT’S SOMEBODY ELSE’S FAULT.
I can’t be happy–Somebody Else is ruining my life.
I can’t (read: won’t) take responsibility for my situation–I wouldn’t be like this, if it weren’t for that Somebody Else. I wouldn’t
Archive for July, 2005
Dragon Two said, when I invited her in for tea, “My name is Victim.” She cries a lot, and sheds wadded tissues like–well, dragon scales.
Things just always went wrong for poor Victim.
Her childhood was rough. When young dragons chose up sides for games, she was among the last to be chosen. She didn’t get asked to the Dragon Prom, and if she did, it was by the wrong boy. The one who didn’t breathe fire worth a damn. She had to settle.
She married the wrong man.
Went to the wrong college, or didn’t go to