..who am I..

It’s been about a year since my last real post, I have been missing putting thought to paper or in this case, key strokes to screen, So here we are again, a feeble attempt at writing.

Well that’s an awfully pessimistic thought. Like everything else, drab. Sad. It’s happening again, Why? Am I weak? Is my mind? You know I do have theories. It’s irrelevant though because it doesn’t seem to make any difference. Theories mean very little in real life.

The point, other than the lavish enjoyment of my literary genius… ha ha ha.. is to attempt to remove some of this insanity, that I seem to so easily succumb to. Thoughts to paper, very therapeutic.

Real life, I have spent so many years waiting. Waiting to be normal, waiting to have a real life… It seems now that “real life” is here, that it’s still out of my grasp. That probably doesn’t make too much sense. To me either.. I think too much, I think.

Oh I know; this too shall pass, this mopee little dark mood I am in. I’m such a faker. I put on such a good show, it’s horrid. It’s also glorious. I wish I could always keep that mask on and never take it off. Miss perfect, Miss responsible. Miss dependable, Miss happy –go- lucky… You get the idea. Awe, it’s makes me sick!! I am NONE of those things, not even a one.

Okay I am not going to be all pitiful this evening; however I do wish I could curl up under a rock for a few days. I have many things to do at present; I am even starting to feel overwhelmed. Deep breath…

Focus, tomorrow is a new day, these thoughts I am currently feeling are most likely not accurate or true. They are just overly emotional and irrational due to my lack of sleep.

I have been pondering things lately that remind me of old days. Old escape routes, old habits of comfort. Secret things, my secret things. Razor blades and Band-Aids.. Things I am ashamed of, things I am accountable for… Now. I suppose for me, having someone/something hold me accountable for my actions is a reasonable threat. I have a hard time disappointing the product of my accountability, there for no matter what “I” want to do, or how much I am longing. I probably won’t.

Hmm, isn’t that interesting, maybe I have a little of Miss Responsibility in me after all.

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