...standing firm on this stony ground...
...the wind blows hard, pulls these clothes around;
I harbor all the same worries as most,
the temptation's to leave, or to give up the ghost.
I wrestle with an outlook on life
that shifts between darkness and shadowy light....
The days seem heavier and heavier in my mind, the human ocean too close and warm. Just you, the weather, and I gave up hope. I'm trying, God knows, I'm trying. But at the end of the day, I'm just tired, and my bones and joints give up. It doesn't help to realize, too, that part of the reason I feel this way is that I'd actually been on the liver med, and my enzymes had been normal for weeks, which accounts for why I haven't felt like garbage-garbage recently...like I do now, now that the enzymes are elevated again. It's...frustrating, though heartening - it looks good for this med actually working. It'll just be a while before it hits the shelves...
...I struggle with words, for fear that they'll hear...
Strung out, that's the best way to describe this feeling, "like too much butter spread over a piece of toast," as if any moment I will dissolve into tears, and that will be it. There's not a reason for the tears, other than they seem the appropriate catharsis. Maybe that's what's brewing in my skull: a human thunderstorm. A minor apocalypse, demi-destruction.
...that all of the hurdles that fell in our laps
was fuel for the fire, and straw for our backs...
If I can just hang on, tomorrow promises the Road. Not necessarily a favorite path, but a path nonetheless, a place to go I don't often go, somewhere that remains sort of new-ish to the mind. Then I can come home and rest, and sleep, having done good work, to prepare to go home again, to see family, maybe some friends, and have a good time. It's what I live for: those little sacred moments of family and friends, where misinterpretation is least likely to happen, where acceptance is most abundant and unconditional. And maybe, just maybe, badminton will happen - that would, surprisingly, do the soul a world of good. Y'all have a lovely day.
I harbor all the same worries as most,
the temptation's to leave, or to give up the ghost.
I wrestle with an outlook on life
that shifts between darkness and shadowy light....
The days seem heavier and heavier in my mind, the human ocean too close and warm. Just you, the weather, and I gave up hope. I'm trying, God knows, I'm trying. But at the end of the day, I'm just tired, and my bones and joints give up. It doesn't help to realize, too, that part of the reason I feel this way is that I'd actually been on the liver med, and my enzymes had been normal for weeks, which accounts for why I haven't felt like garbage-garbage recently...like I do now, now that the enzymes are elevated again. It's...frustrating, though heartening - it looks good for this med actually working. It'll just be a while before it hits the shelves...
...I struggle with words, for fear that they'll hear...
Strung out, that's the best way to describe this feeling, "like too much butter spread over a piece of toast," as if any moment I will dissolve into tears, and that will be it. There's not a reason for the tears, other than they seem the appropriate catharsis. Maybe that's what's brewing in my skull: a human thunderstorm. A minor apocalypse, demi-destruction.
...that all of the hurdles that fell in our laps
was fuel for the fire, and straw for our backs...
If I can just hang on, tomorrow promises the Road. Not necessarily a favorite path, but a path nonetheless, a place to go I don't often go, somewhere that remains sort of new-ish to the mind. Then I can come home and rest, and sleep, having done good work, to prepare to go home again, to see family, maybe some friends, and have a good time. It's what I live for: those little sacred moments of family and friends, where misinterpretation is least likely to happen, where acceptance is most abundant and unconditional. And maybe, just maybe, badminton will happen - that would, surprisingly, do the soul a world of good. Y'all have a lovely day.