Truth

~I have been broken, now beyond any hope of repair, and I can't help but to lay blame all around.

~My shattered spirit holds no driving, burning desire to live after everything I've been put through, at the hands of those I love the most.

~Every relationship I've ever been a part of has left me newly damaged goods; each exacting its toll differently, but terribly all the same.

~The life drains slowly from me with every passing day that brings no attempt at reparations.

~Always, the hardest blows come from the most unexpected sources, at the absolute most inopportune moments.

~True grace consistently evades my best efforts at every turn, even still.

~I am - without doubt - the only person in this house who is in any real way commitedly serious about getting rid of all these disgusting animals my mother-in-law seems so determined to keep around for no good reasons.

~The cruelty is becoming less and less of a deterrent to my absolute NEED to get rid of these filthy animals. As if the fleas weren't enough, now the dog has begun pooping on the floor outside Pickle's bedroom, the cats have started trying to claim the babies' things - Boogaloo's high-chair, the play pen, their toys, binkies, bottles - as their own, what with their constant peeing/spraying/chewing/laying on everything.

~There is no logical explanation for the current and constant state of the place we call home. I've heard - multiple times - of at least one law against having as many cats as live in this house every single day, just creating more and more health hazards for my babies.