Thursday, August 05, 2010

while the bills are piling up

I keep thinking about writing.

But I have nothing to say.

Everything is empty.

Except for my stomach.

It is full of booze.

I'll remain drunk and distracted until it matters, til I need to fix something.

The last few months turned out to be pretty hard. And I didn't handle them the way I expected to. A lot of my support systems didn't feel like showing up; or they just talked shit.

I'll stay here, in my corner of a valley, drinking, whatever, and trying to forget how I got railroaded by someone and left for dead by someone else.

How about this, for a middle road?

I'll go out, collect a bunch of stories, and someone can laugh, and someone can shake their head and someone else can scoff.


Fuck it.


mamatobes said...

Just an observation... Middle of the road is not you. The pain isn't always worth it, but close yourself off and there's no chance for any joy that could be yours. kisses