checking in
Mar. 17th, 2014 12:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ffloIt's late. It's cold. Pretty darned cold today. The ground that appeared from under the white piles Friday crunches as you walk, whether there's still ice on it or not. I can hardly believe how much I've worn my flap ear hat. A couple of days ago I saw on the 10-day prediction on my phone a high of 61 coming. I tried to believe it. Even with a high chance of rain, it was some pie in the sky. Then today I looked and the highest temp in that range was 48 or something. Something that was way far from 61.
So tonight I see that Fred Phelps is dying. This notion goes with the cold. It gives me a chill. He is a joke to many and a kind of extreme or trope and you could say he's done a lot for the queers in making other people not want to look as bad as him. Now that he's dying, I feel the disease of him again. The chill of the disease of hatred, which seems so likely to be coming from his self-hatred. I mean, some shit had to be driving that. Whether or not you believe the stories about the rest stops on the turnpike.
So tonight I see that Fred Phelps is dying. This notion goes with the cold. It gives me a chill. He is a joke to many and a kind of extreme or trope and you could say he's done a lot for the queers in making other people not want to look as bad as him. Now that he's dying, I feel the disease of him again. The chill of the disease of hatred, which seems so likely to be coming from his self-hatred. I mean, some shit had to be driving that. Whether or not you believe the stories about the rest stops on the turnpike.
