I think I can only write when something triggers passion inside me. It’s infuriating to drive in
I don’t normally suffer from road rage. For a long time I lost my short-temper, worked on staying calm, and leading a peaceful life. I let myself get worked up for matters of no importance, and here I am again – overwhelmed by hurt and rage, anger and pain. Will the tears eventually rust the built up feelings? It’s not washing them away as easily.
I wake up every morning and go to sleep at night thinking of all the good things in life, the things I should be thankful for, the people who really care about me, the ones that I love dearly; the monster stands over my shoulder muttering about deception and lies, and the feelings return in intensity.
I am alone again, loneliness a constant companion – at least I’m leading a healthy lifestyle again – eating well, sleeping well. These last few months, since Feb, I've had an erratic sleeping and eating pattern. Health neglected. Looking back, I've been alone, mostly, with a smattering of company in between. But for the most part, alone. So I really shouldn't be feeling that any added value was interspersed somewhere, huh?
I’m moving away from here as soon as I can. I’m on it – the wheels are in motion. I hope it happens soon.
Whatever you give a woman, she's going to multiply.
If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby.
If you give her a house, she'll give you a home.
If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal.
If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart.
She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her.
So - if you give her crap, you will receive a bucket full of shit.