16th December 2002
Discovery is not always a good thing. She feels ill. Ill with the knowledge of something she’d rather not have had. Does insecurity leave your insides turned and a sour taste in your mouth? It might just be the wine.
Work seems to be just about everywhere. But yet, income is at an all time low. Invoices are being backlogged…this means no moolah till that clears. It also means I’m left on the frontline to battle insomnia.
Back
in my room after being away for two weeks. Once again the state of this room
plunges me into depression. Though in all honesty it’s more than just the
room. It’s all the things it’s associated with. Confinement, pain, distress,
confusion, immobility.
I know I run, and I run far too often. The strength needed to deal with the far from sweet reality seems to have gone into hibernation. Denial requires far less energy and determination.
How
much is too much? Is it possible to care too much? When does over-loving cross
the line to become selfishness? Does it ever?
I have a great fear. Fear that I will plague my life with dissatisfaction…with myself. The feeling of intense confusion embodies me ever so often. You’re on the edge, your right hand holds on while your left shoves you. Destruction whispers sweet nothing to me, with promises to satiate the insatiable. A release is needed in all urgency.
My body aches in every possible way. Slipped off the stairs the day before…bruises galore. Meanwhile, Spine the bitch begs for attention like an insatiable slut. Holding the entire muscle network in me hostage until her demands of being manhandled are met. Bitch.
Yes, I
am highly agitated need a punching bag to maul before I start mauling something
living. Don’t ask me why…I wouldn’t be hurting like a bitch if I knew. And
being ever so human, my index finger points at the cocktail of hormones that is
swirling destruction through my system.
Help.
