March 12, 2014

I find myself with too much time on my hands. Too much time for fleeting thoughts that run ramped in my mind causing me nothing less than absolute grief. Is there something perhaps that I might be missing, perhaps the damn boat? I observe others' and wonder how, with all of life's uncertainties, how are they able to move so freely away from their pasts while I rewind the video blog in my mind over and over again? It has become so painstaking that I no longer want or have a desire to be around others, whether they be like me or not. I hear it coming at me from angles I didn't know existed that I need to be happy, or I want you to be happy. Well how's this? I haven't been happy, truly happy since I was small. I remember those days. Stomping in mud puddles, playing with Match Box cars, and plastic Army men. Climbing trees and scraped knees. Throwing rocks and building forts and making appetizing dishes out of dirt and leaves. Those are the days I want to go back to. It's age discrimination as far as I'm concerned. I don't want to be an adult. I don't want the responsibility that comes with it anymore. I'm tired of working just to pay bills, with nothing left over at the end of the week. Perhaps all of this is just a 'bitch' session. What do I know really?! I'm not living, I'm surviving.