the_goren_show: (serious muse)
A snippet of a tune stuck in there that I had no lyrics to reminded me that it's time to clean mine out again.  It's all clogged up with little bits of thoughts and shards of ideas that weren't as bright as I once imagined them to be and the random bits that manage to float to the surface are all getting to be a bit much.  I wish I had access to a lake or large body of water where I could just float on my back and watch the sky for hours, weightless on the tides.  I would be the flotsam and jetsam and stop being me with my insecurities and flaws.

The tradition remains unchanged.

This is our ungodly hour.

I envy those who cast their cares to the religion of their choice, trusting in gods I can no longer believe in that it will all work out alright.  It doesn't always work out alright and some times good people lose and it's not because 'God' willed it or had bigger plans for them.  It's simply the way the world works.  One roll of a dice, one person who turned away thinking another would step up and help and - that's it, life's over.

Time for coffee and then another day of smiling plastically at people, hoping they don't look in my eyes and see the truth.  I want someone to notice and yet, it's far more work than it's worth.
the_goren_show: (serious muse)
And life goes on but it's getting harder and harder to breathe.

Work was work.  More plumbing emergencies, more emergency entries to suites, more yelling at the stressed guy behind the counter who is starting to think that going back to guarding gravel pits is an acceptable career option.

Max blew a headlight this morning in the -30 temperature.  I have already gone and bought the replacement but can't bring myself to try changing it.  Just thinking about attempting it sets my anxiety into overdrive as anything involved with the car seems to just right now.

I'm about ready to find a sanitarium and rent myself a room.
the_goren_show: (musing)
I make no apologies for this, nor will I apologize for acting like a four year old who wants to cuddle with his stuffed toy and his mom.

I wish there was a way to feel that safe again.

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December 2011

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