so, it came up almost two weeks ago…
“Are you sure your life has really been gray and overcast?” – the redhead.
in a word, yes. actually, i suppose that would be three words – “gray and overcast”. in a \\single\\ word i guess it would be “passionateless” – if that is, indeed, a word. but that does describe my feeling towards life in general lately, and i don’t know why.
i don’t know if it’s work life or home life or my life in general, but that does seem to about sum it up. not so much nothing to live for as nothing to look forward to. not on the immediate horizon at least. if i bank major coin at work? who cares – it’s not like i can buy anything with it – i just get to get caught up (hopefully). if i get up early one morning or stay out late one night? who cares – i just make up for the sleep the next day by passing out – flavor flav still wakes my ass up before dawn, anyway – there’s no way to improve that (yes, josh, a year and a half after you sent me the link, i finally got a flavor flav alarm clock – not in the cool color you sent the pic of, but by the time i got one even finding one was difficult). there’s no end in sight. there is no horizon. it’s not looking up, it’s not looking down – it’s just looking forward…
…what happened to me?
i used to have more pep in my step – more piss and vinegar, as the expression goes. now just vinegar? when did it all start to fade? is it age? career? domestication? the series? the war? did the terrorists win on this one?
(at this point i’d like to interject that this was written when i was not remotely close to being on speaking terms with sobriety – although it was not booze, for the record…)
all i know is i need me back. i also need epoxy, to fix the phat farm bling that completes my ali g costume. but more importantly, i need me back. or perhaps it was never here in that sense – recently, have i had less pep? less passion? or is this how i’ve always been? am i imagining the day when i used to have the creative where with all (is that supposed to be three words?) to do an entry a day, every day, and the majority of them were actually worth reading? what will it take to retrieve that? is it findable?
can anyone find the milk carton with my soul on the side of it and call the toll free number?
(god almighty that was cheesy as all fuck, wasn’t it? who comes up with this shit? oh, wait…never mind. complaint withdrawn…)
therapy. i probably just need many…many…**fucking** years of therapy.
(yeah – that probably sums it. i think sober i’ll enjoy reading this almost as much as y’all…from the re-read and edit phase (yes, most of the time i do try to correct the typos before you guys read this) it seems almost depressing. now i want carne guisada…don’t know why i mentioned that.)