From: goldarachel@gmail.com   
      
   How can you not know after all these years, as I say over and over, that I am   
   aliterate, unless I am hypomanic, it appears, in the past? But now, I am just   
   so lonesome for my mate. It's so uncomfortable, terrible torment I can barely   
   endure.   
      
   But I'll make a mental note of it. Hey, maybe you can send it to me next year   
   for my birthday? :-D Albeit aliterate, I am a true bibliophile. Maybe one day,   
   I will start to crack them open. I never get anything anymore, for   
   birthdays...ha ha. If there's    
   anything you would like from Santa Monica, where I live ( wink wink ), it   
   would be my sincere pleasure to pass it along to you! Anything, just let me   
   know! :-)   
      
   R.   
      
   On Friday, April 23, 2021 at 3:53:30 PM UTC-7, Just Walkin' wrote:   
   > Rachel,    
   >    
   > Please read Eternal Life by Dara Horn. I guarantee you will love it.   
   > On Thursday, April 22, 2021 at 6:19:46 PM UTC-5, Rachel wrote:    
   > > Sorry, I said Jews in Nuremberg, they were called the Nuremberg laws, but   
   affected all of Nazi Germany, as I'm sure you all already know. I knew it, I   
   guess I just don't know why they were called the Nuremberg laws, how that came   
   about. (or possibly    
   don't recall, from Hebrew school, as a child.)    
   > >    
   > > So Bob, are you ever coming back or what? Who knocked on the balcony? Are   
   you just going to leave me here to get buried in Google? After what happened   
   between us? I can't believe you are just exploiting me. I can't believe all   
   these stories about you,   
    that you are such a horrible person, a misogynist, a playboy, a womanizer,   
   etc.....    
   > > On Thursday, April 22, 2021 at 3:45:09 PM UTC-7, Rachel wrote:    
   > > > Thank you, K., for joining in. I just wanted to apologize. I was   
   instructed to share uncomfortably, above my desire to receive for myself   
   alone, and my mother had always said to me, act as if, and fake it 'til you   
   make it, and I didn't feel that    
   that was honest or had integrity, and that's not who I wanted to be, and it   
   ultimately came tumbling out, all my anger and resentment, which I felt was   
   (and I was correct) honest, as I forced myself to finally share something   
   special, that I was saving,    
   in the hopes that one day I could show it to Bob himself, in person.    
   > > >    
   > > > So I guess maybe I just didn't understand what the instruction was all   
   about, how it would help me, to come back into this group, when I am so   
   ashamed, that Bob never comes back, even after all these years, and when I   
   need help, and I went running    
   to him, and now he is singing about it, and it never works out when I go back   
   to his house, and I don't know what to do about any of it. And I wanted to   
   have things to share with him, but I barely have anything now, he practically   
   knows me inside out    
   after all this sharing online, including in email, and he still hasn't come,   
   and now he stopped talking to me privately, too, and I am dying of loneliness   
   and boredom. And on top of that, my living situation is getting progressively   
   worse. And I really    
   wanted to have something to show him, so I was so pissed off to post a new   
   poem, and also, it made me realize, just how stupid it is, in the grand scheme   
   of things, how small, how insignificant, and now, I don't even think it is   
   that good at all.    
   > > >    
   > > > I just....didn't want to be fake, and post it as though I were proud of   
   it. I guess I thought it was good until I was faced with posting it in this   
   group, connected to, about, for, Bob Dylan fans. But I don't want to make   
   others uncomfortable    
   either. How am I supposed to share uncomfortably, and then like attracts like,   
   and I attract someone else who is uncomfortable, too? Maybe you know how they   
   call property real estate, what that real is all about....like the kabbbalists   
   might say it's    
   fake. Or you know how they say, what is that, the illusion of luxury? Like I   
   have all these creature comforts, but maybe it's fake, and the reality is, I   
   have no close friends, really. Not in person. Nobody in my "real life" is   
   really anybody to whom I    
   relate or connect well at all, coming from my same kind of background. I mean,   
   I suppose I have grown a lot (?), maybe, in being a more all-encompassing,   
   accepting person, but I do not wish to do this at the expense of my own   
   well-being or even things    
   like standards, as to what is okay, and what is not okay, like when bad things   
   happen to me, whatever they may be, to change my mind, and say to myself, oh,   
   this doesn't matter, this isn't important, it's all good.....that's probably   
   what the Jews in    
   Nuremberg were telling themselves as the new laws were progressively being   
   handed down, before they were shipped of ghettos and then camps.    
   > > >    
   > > > I have no idea how or why I met Bob, and now I have no idea how to get   
   him back, and this is a Dylan group...I don't know where else to find him.   
   It's not like he has a front door with a knocker and/or a doorbell, and I   
   can't believe he thinks he    
   had the right to sing about me, and drive me crazy, and not even come to help   
   me after he said he wanted me, and I've shared all I know how with him, and he   
   still won't come.    
   > > > On Wednesday, April 21, 2021 at 5:36:56 PM UTC-7, Just Walkin' wrote:    
   > > > > On Wednesday, April 21, 2021 at 1:55:57 AM UTC-5, Rachel wrote:    
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)