Holding On A Draw
By the time I landed in bed last night, emotional exhaustion had taken its toll. I walked through half of the day with a blinding migraine on one side of my head. After that kind of wilting ache, and staring through a bright white spot, I am desperate in my hope that a brain tumor is causing my headaches . . .
At least that would imply some sort of certain end. If this were the work of some malevolent God, completely bent with me because of some nameless sin, I may have eighty years of torment left. Eighty years, barring my liver crystallizing, or I go Kowalski and head-on a roadblock at top end.
I am the deepest kind of broke. I'm late on my car payment. One of my EFTs bounced. Fucking impossible to keep track of those bloody things anymore. I sift through my day with the kind of desperate gut-feeling that I'm barely skimming through this time. For someone who hates to gamble, I certainly play things close to the quick.
She's about all that's holding my seems right now. I'm not stitched well enough to hold down my anger when I feel this cornered.
I can't spend the rest of my life thinking, "Just a little longer . . . "
At least that would imply some sort of certain end. If this were the work of some malevolent God, completely bent with me because of some nameless sin, I may have eighty years of torment left. Eighty years, barring my liver crystallizing, or I go Kowalski and head-on a roadblock at top end.
I am the deepest kind of broke. I'm late on my car payment. One of my EFTs bounced. Fucking impossible to keep track of those bloody things anymore. I sift through my day with the kind of desperate gut-feeling that I'm barely skimming through this time. For someone who hates to gamble, I certainly play things close to the quick.
She's about all that's holding my seems right now. I'm not stitched well enough to hold down my anger when I feel this cornered.
I can't spend the rest of my life thinking, "Just a little longer . . . "