In the playground of the broken hearts
I've had this window open for a half hour now. I don't know what to type.
Everything is packed in bags and boxes, sealed with zippers and tape. Coldly, efficiently, portable.
I am at work, I have no home to "go home" to today when it's time to leave. I have places I can go, but I have no home.
I am useless here, can't focus, can't think.
Sad.
This has not been a good year.
For everyone who reads this, you should know "You met me at a very strange time in my life".
I used to be very happy, very optimistic. Not this sad sack with his life packed into the trunk of his car.
Joe pointed out to me the other day (not that it really needed pointing out) that my journal is terribly depressing to read, for those who are riding out the storm with me know that there are probably still a few dips left in this ride. I can only hope to come through it all on a high note, and regain access to the person that I once was. You would like him.
Everything is packed in bags and boxes, sealed with zippers and tape. Coldly, efficiently, portable.
I am at work, I have no home to "go home" to today when it's time to leave. I have places I can go, but I have no home.
I am useless here, can't focus, can't think.
Sad.
This has not been a good year.
For everyone who reads this, you should know "You met me at a very strange time in my life".
I used to be very happy, very optimistic. Not this sad sack with his life packed into the trunk of his car.
Joe pointed out to me the other day (not that it really needed pointing out) that my journal is terribly depressing to read, for those who are riding out the storm with me know that there are probably still a few dips left in this ride. I can only hope to come through it all on a high note, and regain access to the person that I once was. You would like him.