A Journal of Sorts
another night without sleep am I sliding in too deep? promises I tried to keep may be killing me is it too late to return with the lessons I have learned or am I too badly burned to live my fantasy and what may that be, you may ask... well, I'll wait until you ask to answer (how's that for making you responsible for the content you read?)... until then, I'll just mention that it's probably been discussed on written monologue at least a few times around this site... and I shall continue to let humor, sarcasm, and arrogance eat through, however gradually, the doubts and chains I've wrapped around the confidence in myself to actualize my dreams... of course I have hidden those dreams so well I'm not even sure which path leads to them anymore... wonder if amy would know J bite me, why don't I, caustic is my tongue today (and who'd know unless they knew me?... wait, the little green flea is bound to make an appearance... it's been a while since I overloaded my babblings with obscure references... then again, if you just got here everything might read as an obscure reference) J what are you talking about? who? what? when? where? what do you mean? tiny little queaky bed bending me into my head what was the last thing I said every day I'm closer to dead blood pressure rises too high living like I want to die but I didn't say goodbye every day I've just got to try to overcome the fear to rise above the pain to step out of the blues to sing again, to dance again to laugh again but first I've got to cry to live I must say every day I don't want to die working again?... sorta... it might take a day or few hundred to wake up and get interested in living the worklife again this time... last time I had more reasons, at least in my mind... this time, the solidity of my reasons for giving up leisure and self-centered creative time for altruistic work are not as specific or concrete as they were before... nothing is... but then, that's how it's almost always been... back to the time before the time before, to the questing years, to the hungry years... I must remember to not be lazy this time... little time for writing, little time for thinking about stuff, working again... |
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