I feel crazy in ways that make me question the "correct" way to put on a toilet paper roll

Does the ply come over and around the top,
Or under and out the bottom?

When I was a young girl, I use to switch the rolls to where the ply came from the bottom because I thought it was "easier" that way.

Now I think it looks "nicer" when it's the other way, though.

I keep thinking about how bad my anxiety gets when I am riding in a car and someone else is driving.

(This obviously has a lot to do with the fact that I have lost far too many amazing and incredible and beautiful people to freak car accidents)

But I think it also has to do with the feeling of not being in control.
I think that aspect plays a great role in feeding in to that constant edge of fear...

On the edge of my seat,
Cringing due to the fact of knowing that at any minute, there is a real possibility that we could get into a terrible crash and die.

Cars **** people every single day, you know.
And usually young people.
(At least it always seems that way).

But part of my thought process revolves around me realizing that every single one of these people is loved deeply by at least one other person (living or dead).

I don't think it's the dying part that scares me so much,
But knowing how many people whom I love more than life who would be so dreadfully hurt, and in so much pain, if I were to ever die suddenly and unexpectedly in some horrible and unfortunate accident.

That's what really scares me…
Hurting the people I love.

I've felt that pain.
I know that hurt deeply.
And never would I ever wish it upon a person,
(No matter how much I might possibly despise them).

I think that I get so upset when people drive recklessly (even just a little bit) because (to me) they don't realize how ******* fragile everything is...

(Fragile; I've always like that word)

Don't people see how fragile it all is? How fragile and finite the life of a loved one is? How fragile and finite all life is in general?

I'm scared to death riding in cars with people
(More scared than I've ever been)
And I've been thinking a lot about it.

*One week into it and November has been "fragile" so far.

my dog was full of smiles
when she was in pain,
from the ends of
her large, worn paws
to the greying hairs of
her head, because she
was dying -

but we gave her pizza
as her last meal since she
always
loved it.
more than us.
more than her life, probably,
even when she was so dizzyingly
overcome with
dementia and arthritis and hurt, so much
*******
hurt.

and i cried when we lost her
because it was so sudden, sobbed awful, wet tears into
my brother's torn t-shirt
since we didn't have time to change into better
clothes when we put her down. to help her. to save her.

yet somehow, knowing that we
gave her up
hurts worse than if we'd
lost her in her sleep.

and someday, i might
get into a car accident, and
my guts will splatter along the walls of some beat-down car in brooklyn
and someone i never knew will have
to clean me up. my friends
will lose me my family
will lose me my significant other
will lose me. they may
never
get over it.

so i will
send reckless text messages
and tell them that i love them because ******* it
if they don't love me back, i will
not wait for signs that
will never come, i will
learn four new languages so
i can meet so many more of the people who
may change me, i will
go to therapy and learn
from it, i will
create art that bleeds from my fingertips, i will
weave patterns into the fabric
of other people's lives, i will
hug my little brother when he
needs one, i will
kiss them with reckless abandon even when my parents do not
want me to, i will
be okay with who i am, i will
work on who i am, i will
love who i am.

i will
eat my ******* pizza,
just like my dog.

in case i get into that car accident tomorrow.

You took me by a glass
Filled it to the brim
Till one small slip
A single drop
And the rest will follow

You walked into the parking lot surrounded
By the smell of cheap perfume, gasping for air,
I'd actually climbed 2 flights of stairs,
And the man who brought us to the garage
Told me that my poor baby, my poor sweet car
Was to be left in there for more than a week,
She'd sprung a leak and the doctor was saying
So much that I wish he'd just not even speak,
Cursed old man, watch when you drink the beers!
The double trouble had turned into a smashing spiral,
My banged up car was so good through the years,
It made my boring reclusive life seem so meaningful.

Dangerous.
Mistakes happen, lives continue
shifting the blame
deny to me
acceptable
deny to you
Dangerous.

Sitting in the aftermath
Of shattered dreams on broken skin
Left to wonder how
Realizing we are all capable of unmentionables
Steeped in regret
Begging forgiveness
Accidents are accidents
Still, there is no forgiveness
Self-affirming the negative
Unintended consequences
Alter perceptions
Who are these people
Who, then, have I become
Though, that who feels more like a what
And the demons laugh
As they frolic in the real world
Let them run free
Let them dance
Who I was
Will hide in their dungeon
For it is safer in there than out here
Yes, it is much safer
And there is no one
To say differently

          Punish the guilty
                    Punish the guilty
                              Punish the guilty

Who needs proof
What is proof
It was only an accident
Unintentional circumstances
Affirm nightmares
No one will find me in here
Safe in the lair of the beasts who bore me
Alone inside my head

or
Pave the Planet Earth

Not too long ago
It was just Harvest time
That the farthest distance
Was traveled from home
Perishable bounty
Had to get to market on time
In the progress
Of wheeling and dealing
Cash crop
While still fresh
Before its value dropped
Only the Horse and Buggy Doctor
Would need to travel
Any farther or faster
The rest of the year
Trading his service to protect life
For tangible scarce resources
Without shifting a gear