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Just shufflin along, heel to toe, as backwards as it could ever be.
Mud rising up on the sides of my shoes, leaving solemn traces of terra and terror along the white barrier of my Cons.
Small feet pitter-pattering their way down the stairs, a dogs and not the other, reminding me just what kind of man I am.
Moments of realization of just what I don't have to offer, and what others do. But I take comfort in being a learning process, a booster, a sacrifice to a god that I'm not completely sure I believe in.
Nothing but rain, rain, rain, what used to be a comforting sign of enjoyment, days laid up in bed listening to the assault of helpless molecules spattered along the windows. Nowadays I just pray for snow, something soft and silent and dampening. Something joyful and enjoyable. Cold days alone are not the greatest, but I suppose one has to take what they can get/give.
"You can lead a horticulture, but you can't make her think." Now if that isn't a hell of a play on words. I wish I possessed that sort of mind some days.
Violence isn't the answer, it's just the one we like best. It's not bad, but it doesn't hold a candle to Dorothy Parker.
But there's a time and place for self doubt/loathing/hatred/ignorance. But I'm not going to let now be the time. SAD is enough of a pain in the ass as is. I've been replacing all the lights in my house with the daylight mimicking ones. It's been pretty pleasant. I'm feeling a bit better already, but that might just be the alcohol. Either way, it's fucking working.
Come see the Brian Page Experience, take away but never bother repaying. For once, I don't want to be the stepping stone, I want to be the lodestone. Eh, worth and worthwhile, all in due time. Merry Christmas all, pour a little salt.
Have fun with the little game we play. It at least keeps shit interesting.
oooooooh mystery. I want a place in the world that's completely mine for once. Time to cross borders, swords, and hearts.
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