Wife says 'never go to bed angry' after waking from row to find husband dead on sofa https://t.co/H6SbFQk6bL— Joanne M Marinelli (@Jozannyme) July 11, 2017
Domesticated housewife bullshit. We cannot control every circumstance, and what it really comes down to is learning to live with what we cannot control. My last words to my brother were "get off the phone you fucking psychopath." My surviving brother feels guilty for not helping my father bathe him, but I cannot hold Ben accountable for that, as I feared to kiss him when my mother walked him, zombie on a leash. What I do not do anymore is lash out at evangelicals, though they confuse my sympathy with faith, and eventually pay the price, blocking me after a feisty libertarian discussion, proving that Catholics are tougher, and are the one true faith, the rest of you be damned, a hint of conviction there in the exhortation. But the moniker "atheist Catholic" isn't a Derrida linguistic game, as some of you think. It embraces the dialectical contradictions which agnostics just whine about.
1. There is no God. That is fairly well settled, but disaffection with materialism lends itself to Catholic stricture, and on another day, if my plaque doesn't cause imminent catastrophe, my war with Protestant doxtology goes on, and shall be victorious. I truly thought Google would have had it in for me by now, if I used Plus, and that FB would have long ago banned me. The sole reason I don't close my FB account, literally the only reason, as my family with their pesky skeletons annoy me (I know things some cousins do not know I know but I am in too weakened a position to ignite tensions, as all of our parental generation are vulnerable, on their last legs) is so that I may chase sources, or get blogging advice.
I am working and in bad humor. Leave me alone-- yelling at my viewers as if they're the proximate cause of all my trouble🙌
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