As I have stated before, this is my scrapbook. This is where I bare my soul (and everything else) if for nothing better than to track my foibles. (Please, no allusions to “that’s why they put erasers on pencils”) I hope I can provide a few laughs on the mental hospital ward floor upon my arrival.
But the kettle is boiling and the pressure is building on all fronts. If you’re human, details aren’t necessary. You get it. Of course, blame usually has to get assigned. It has to. You can start with God and work your way down to the basement.
Which begs the question: Am I just a dickhead or is there a universal conspiracy? This is not some recap of a past story with a reasonable ending, this shit is happening now. I haven’t slept in days and my mind is playing tricks on me. (Which I usually put to good use.)
I have friends and acquaintances who can blame- game this whole situation out for me, for nothing better than to make themselves feel better about their own personal travails peppered with woulda- coulda- and shoulda, but they leave out the “did”.
What causes most of the pain is the inexorable feeling of “you gotta do something, man” That pain can be unbearable if left unattended. And dangerous, not to mention the obvious. Thankfully, that’s just your mind fucking with you. “Selling yourself a wolf ticket” as we called it back in the can.
This is a real time situation and despite all the protestations, I’ve decided to “let” instead of “make.” (I’m staring at picture of the universe and beer just came shooting out of my nose at the absurdity of the comparison.)
This approach is so much easier on the ego and besides, who the hell do we think we are anyway? Look out there, will you?
P.S I take chances for a living and I wouldn’t trade my life for all the weenies that are taking cruises,walking empty beaches, drinking mimosas and checking their 401K every day. A planned existence, my worst nightmare.
Better you find me in the streets going through your dumpster with relish. I didn’t sign on to be someone’s little lab rat. I’ll take my lumps. Gladly. But I’ll be back. Count on it.