Following That Cheerful Post

I'm sure if there actually is anyone who reads this they laughed at the drama of my last post.. I think I need to add "dramatic" and "depressing" to the list of adjectives I've used to describe this blog. Fortunately, no one actually reads my blog :P

In school today I made a tankekarta (thought map) otherwise known as bubble chart, brainstorm.. whatever.. of the themes in Sun Lit Dust.. it was actually really great. Ever since I spent an afternoon a few weeks ago actully writing, I've been claiming again that I am writing a book.. and it feels fantastic.. and I kind of am.. well.. at least I'm thinking about it all the time. The actual act of writing really clarifies thing for me... often I don't really know what I think of what something I'm working on is about until after I've actually started it.. then it takes a whole life of its own and I have to start my notes and organization all over again so that it is clean and makes sense... at anyrate.. I'm really happy with the direction of SLD. Maybe one day it will actually be something that merits the title of book.. who knows.. it's fun anyway.

I didn't really have any thoughts today... or anything specific to write, but I felt like I needed to move my blog past the drama of asking the nothing and everything out there to please fuck off and leave me alone in my misery :) Righto.. I've done that now.. have a fantastic day.. mister (or misses) nothing and nobody!

Pants Around My Ankles

At least once a week my world come crumbling down around me. I feel like a little kid who has peed its pants and is now standing in their pee with their pants around their ankles wondering what to do about it.

There are so many people in this world who I love and feel close to, but right now I can't talk to any of them... I feel like I'm in a glass baloon or bubble or something and like the air is slowly going stale, and the volume of the baloon is slowly decreasing until it will surely fit around my body and lungs like a stocking and ultimately suffocate me... the end seems inevitable.

I just keep hoping to put it off long enough to save something.. some scrap of dignity... till I can speak the language of the country where I live.. where my books and my pets live... till I have landed in a situation I can control.

You.. the nothing and noone.. or everything and everyone.. if you hear me... bah.. leave me the fuck alone to feel my wretchedness... and fatness.. in peace.

How the hell did I get here? How did the things I used to love become a weight I have to bare? How can the happiness have seeped out of my life? I'm only 25 years old for fucks sake.. and my dreams seem to be sitting around my ankles, recently pissed on..