memory two

To begin with, anyone who writes in the first person is a fool. I’ve always liked fool’s proximity to fullness. I am raw around the edges, especially where she had entered. The omnipresent she; mother? i would like not to think, so.
I was having a conversation with several friends just now. Hurt and full of love, i realized today that fighting may be worthless except for its own sake. I do experience the imposition of goals as violent. What is violence to someone who has never been raped; what is it to those who have? Raped, been raped. Some say the two are closer than we think. I prefer not to. Don’t you?
Who are you, my friend, oh my friend, there are no friends,
said some stupid guy whose name evokes power. My name...
Every time i hear the name (?) Jesus i know i’m in the wrong place. I am an anachronism—me rather than jesus because i hear the name often and repetition is validation here.