Hey MIDJAH, are you our waitress?

Yes, Scorched Peaches browser, I am.

Where are we?

You’re in my stand. I have this matchbook size of a roadside stand on Affection Road, it’s my Scorched Peaches stand.

Why are you in your stand?

To 86 a haunting of a bar restaurant’s ordinary tragedy by offering my humiliation as sampler plate and poke puke bowl here behind my stand.

Why are you doing that?

Because I was poked by the bartender when I said “not tonight” thus karmic scorched peaches have Re-tuRned to ask hymn to pay the bill. the FURY bill.

Where is your stand located?

18 years in the past and 18 years in the future right here NOW in this mystery wind & slight valley dip in the road, Affection Road

Does that dip have a name?

Yes, dear, thank you for asking. It’s Scorched Peaches, the barely visible yet weakly standing TURN IN THE ROAD OF WAR — THE WAR OF THE SEXES — THE TURN OFF FURY ROAD

Where R UR Clothes?

They’ve been turned into light, Scorched Peaches, so I can serve as VISIBLE turn in the road. (Sexual) PEACE needs courage, visibility — Remember that.

NUDY is revoked guilt visibility

Fury Road Itself is a post I’m not up to fully write. Because I had to DANCE to survive tonight. This fury with feminists who seemed to drop me. Revoking Guilt from my psyche. Forgiving women for not seeing me. Because they’re seeing all of me. It’s the PATTERN, silly.

Fury Road is with Cornell and F.I.T. and Chicago. It’s righteous. Yet I’m not on that road with my old women. Not ON it. I am not on Fury Road. I am the turn in Fury Road itself.

I have to write and ride OFF Fury Road to court Decatur, Georgia to unseen, unknown, unproven, misunderstood work.

ARE YOU LISTENING? …I am not for male aggression.

I am woman nonlinear outpouring her humiliation. WITH open blouse. That’s a side story to feminism and a foolish one. For me ~ emotional freedom.

I cannot ignore patriarchal codependent guilt AS war.

I can hear our discord (female codependence) and I can’t UNHEAR it.

So WHILE I STAND with JANE DOE and FURY ROAD, what I hear as to why WE AS WOMEN KEEP IT IN PLACE FOR MUCH LONGER THAN NEEDED is not anything I can explain until I can. So I won’t explain my NUDY decisions.

I can’t be this displaced in psyche much longer. I need to COME HOME. I need to come home to sexual peace building. How? peace friendship with my aggressor and our old community. I need to do this NUDY. feminists are NOT for it. yet. I hope that changes. They are on Fury Road.

please, please, please…please HEED my STRICT WARNING — you who are a woman and unconsciously fearful. I’m doing my job down here. Don’t come near if not sincere. Commanda R psyche broke me. dancing NUDY sews me up. I sow NUDY seeds of love (their mind into semen). I owe no explanations.

My women pals I told? They couldn’t bear it. Most cold silent.

If it costs me the women, I must. I must direct my fury OFF that road. I am taking it WITH me and dancing it into the (sexual) peace we can’t reach.

I IGNORE NOTHING. Receiving everything. Becoming NUDY. Finishing MY VERSION of success now til April. My” success” in Scorched Peaches is still breathing, dancing NUDY, and telling my story. I look like a disaster. I love it. I’m terrified. Fury softened is NOT fury ignored. It’s alchemizing its potentiality.

I have to soften my fury. Took me this long to have boundaries, girls. Now I have them. You have them (family) and I have service: love as a NUDY.

NO STILL MEANS NO EVERY TIME.

Receiving

what I Know?

Feeding myself means starving the pattern. Receiving in and as love, going AHEAD with peace friendship in Decatur no matter its outward cost. As in I have that boy’s balls in my hand and women as a whole want me to crush them.

I question it.

what happened wasn’t cool

It’s my experience men MIGHT be able to eek these words out. I saw them weep in over email once. from my peace friend. He was crying because I don’t know why. Was it an order to apologize to me? What wasn’t cool???

receiving hymn that day he wrote to me ~ nothing was solved. I did not ask what he meant. I didn’t ask back then. I needed to. I didn’t.

I did that.

I didn’t follow up. How could I? Multiple things happening, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t hold a drop of my Commanda R psyche. Despite all this…

No means No every time.

Scorched Peaches is not vacation from Fury Road.

My peace friend cleansing is awkward to me. Revoking guilt is obliterating. Turning OFF Fury Road itself is an experience in losing everything. I don’t know quite where I am. I do know I’m walking.

(((A)))