My head is busting, BUSTING with stuff to write about.
When I sit at the keyboard my brain freezes.
Ever tried to fuck at your parents or relatives house (when you got married, became middle-aged and cringed if the bed squeaked, that is) and disovered stage fright?
Or been busting to rip out an enormous number two in the ladies at work then someone walks in and instead you squeeze out a hapless and thoroughly unsatisfying fart?
Well it's similar to that.
Kinda, sorta.
An activity which gave me so much pleasure and made me smelly armed with passion and fervour as I typed, wildly and ambitiously has now almost reduced me to tears.
All I can push out are tidbits, scraps, the entree to the meal but not the meal and certainly no bloody desert.
So my head is a rambling, jumbled and incoherent mess at the moment.
It's all
trust
autism
aspergers
americans who oppose universal healthcare are fucking idiots
love and the lack of it
missing you desperately and knowing I will never have you, you know who you are
my beautiful kids
my anger
my fear
my guilt
my sorrow
and my previous and better life
The Last Days of the Oakland A's
2 months ago
2 comments:
My posts reflect a hard time getting out what I want. Fingers poised and silent over the keyboard.
Thoughts in your head flying around like a bird in the house that cannot find it's way out. Banging on the window.
Hard when you cannot have who you want.
I would never pick you having that indecision, your posts are so incredibly assured.
Yeah.
That was a weak moment letting that one slip, written in an emo mood.
*Gives herself a slap*
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