But only something.
My brain is full of song lyrics in the guise of emotional expression.
And so I lay here awake
As all the clouds float away
Then fast asleep in your arms
Wake up, wonder where we are
Try to freeze frame the day
Then the light starts to fade
I will scream at the sky
'Til we drink the oceans dry
And so we run...
Too much "real" life.
Too much to do. Too much to stutter over.
A then B then C equals correct.
Thank you very much, move along.
This place is still disgusting.
But I can sleep now.
My spot looks something like a room.
My desktop isn't set up, but has a home for it.
I can do my paperwork, both in that there is some writing space, and that I can get to my files.
OSAP is calling. I need to pick up.
I don't even know why I'm not.
I have the money. I don't want to piss them off.
I refuse to insult people by considering them a victim.
Even when they want me to.
Especially in situations where there are choices being made.
Yelling at people does not create respect.
FYI.
You wouldn't think that'd need saying.
The dishes are done.
There are clean counters.
Not enough.
But housework done imperfectly still blesses my family.
I want the noise in my head to shuffle itself into something I can express.
I wish I felt wanted for who I am.
I wish I never used the backspace.
I wish I didn't have a running email of things I can't or won't say.
I wish I could find my songs again. |
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