That’s the rocking ship of these kinds of situations. You never really know which side of the bed you’re going to wake up on. Or if the bed will turn into Johnny Depp’s worst nightmare and swallow you. Either way, you’ve got to start every day with a plan of attack. It’s a losing game being on defence. It’s not steady footing.
Today I felt like I started a game of chess with the world, but they only gave me six checker pieces and five dollars worth of Monopoly money. By the time four am rolled around, I had set my sights on the day ahead. Two movies and some Photoshop homework, then shower, then go catch the bus, aim for arrival at school by noon. I try stay away from most social media at that time of day. Although my general lack of prolific actions run all through the day in recent history, there are those few hours in the morning that I’m at my least intelligent. The more I do, the less I accomplish.
On a somewhat similar thought, this whole not sleeping thing wouldn’t be so bad if I could at least be productive will I was awake.
To my next topic, I hate our home.
I cannot stand waking up in that place, hanging out in those walls, seeing all the potential for greatness we had behind that front door. It disgusts me and chills me to the bone. I spend almost one hundred percent of my time in my office upstairs. Nothing in my office has changed or even remotely resembles the events of the past month. Nothing is missing, out of place, or different. I can close that door and my feeble mind life feels as if I’ve gone back in time where there was still a glimpse of home there. This was after all where the finer points in my life were supposed to take place somewhere down that weary path.
I still feel that hole in my heart, that lump in my throat when I think about her face. All of the things I had planned, and things I wanted to do with her by my side. We moved into this house to be able to do all of those things one day. My office would become a nursery, and our family would spend endless years swinging on the bench in the back yard. Yet, it fleets from my fingertips and leaves stains on my soul. I’ve become bitter to the whole idea….. because I’ve failed.
I still want happiness. Don’t get me wrong. I just want to give it to myself and only take small pieces from others. Where as before I couldn’t fulfil that need within, so I took it from those around me. I relied. It ended up nearly felling me in the end. Once it’s all over, I’m the only one in that reflective surface. So without those to rely on, I’ve got to learn how to help myself while fighting off the demons and it’s turning out to be damn near impossible. On days where others give me light I can focus on the demons. On days where no one knows my name I’m forced to either pick a battle, or lose at least fifty percent of both conflicts. It’s really just a game of see how much less you can drown than yesterday.
“Go ahead, make my day” –