Shit happens. Good things happen. Wine happens. Hell, I happened. Or I’m happening, right now, in this place. You feel me too… I’m fading, and sometime I feel nearly used up, but I’m here. Happening.
Wow, two blogs in one day. Someone should run and alert the media. I said that I would try to blog more, but this reeks of self love a little. And why not. If you can’t love yourself, who can, eh?
I’m in one of those positions where I have no one to turn to but myself. Stress of the week is finally catching me. I’ve had compliments about how well ‘I’m holding’ and ‘Oh Lynn, you are looking solid through this’. I’m not as solid as I look, and now I am franticly clutching the bottle by the neck with a white knuckled strangle hold.
He’s trying to live now.. in stead of dying. It’s touch and go, but it’s there. Now I can fold a little… I can breathe. Who do I talk to? Or fuck it, do I just fold alone with that bottle of red that is more dependable than any thing at this moment?
I fucking strongly dislike Septembers. Next year I’m take a holiday to a place far far away… Warm breezes, good food, drinks with stupid umbrellas in. I’ll change my name, wear sunglasses and look mysterious. I gotta out dance it, before it catches me.
I’ve discovered that yard work and house work don’t cut it. They look nice, but the train is still running through my head. If I just knew where to turn, I would do it.
Or maybe it’s just the bottle and the tunes. Fuck knows I’m probably shit company right now anyway.
Too self absorbed to love beyond the obvious candidates…from the soap-box
Lx
1 comment:
You're not alone.
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