I ain’t feeling it tonight … I’m tired and beyond that, and I want to sleep and want to sing, but everything I am singing sounds like so much shit. I am pissed off and I can’t seem to sound pissed off … I’m still having a good time though. Tired … of a lot of stuff, but still actually doing really good here despite everything else.
My heart has finally healed. Kinda scabbed over … Like it’s been dragged over ground on industrial gravel. Now it’s just a bad scab I have to deal with, but the “pain” I’ve been feeling lately is gone almost completely and I’m a lot better for it. Some of the choices I’ve made recently are some of the most ridiculous choices I have ever made. I seriously must have just lost my mind for awhile. I am never going to let that happen again.
I know no one ever knows what I am talking about, but when I say don’t ever allow yourself to live in a world of your own making believe me. Deal with reality, it’s actually easier in the long run and you look less like a jack ass.
At this point … My heart is pretty much in an ice age, which is exactly where it should be. I am very aware I am not worth the time, the effort … I get it, you are all important and I am not … You really don’t have to rub it in. And no, I am actually not feeling sorry for myself at all … This is reality folks I’m dealing with it.
A nice little ice age can cover all of me for what I care. I don’t see things changing anytime soon, and I’d really like a magic potion to kill the last bit of any hope that’s left. Don’t worry I am searching for one right now … No it’s not all disaster all the fucking time, it’s just life. I’m getting older I don’t have the time to care anymore about relationships (man, woman, family), love and all that bullshit. I really don’t. I’ll leave it up to the rest of you to bang your heads against walls.
I also feel like I should just delete everything. But hell this is like free bullshit therapy … Who am I to turn down free speech?
Conclusion: My heart is a diseased organ that needs to be amputated from the rest of me. If we’re lucky we will cut out all the pieces before it goes septic … blah, blah, blah. Oh look … now you know where the blahs come in. You are so very clever!!
And photographs for people who detest words:



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