Nov 7, 2014

This is going to be shit.  I will not delete this when I'm sober.  Sometimes,  I need to write absolute shit.

I have ingested everything in the house known to alter the mind, kill pain, and reduce stress in some way.  I need to be anesthetized.  It has been so grey.  There's a lot of obvious raw and hurtful death, pain, and suffering, but there's some subversive things happening too. Anguish from unexpected places. Physical pain.  I'm even scared, and I'm never scared.

There is a pain, though.  It's from loss of people and characters who make up our character, icons in our lives, legends that would always live on.  People who you remember fondly, but lost touch with.  People of a moment, of a formative year.  It's what's keeping me up tonight. There's a small but growing hole in my house, my center.   This is drafty and lets in small gusts of cold, now, forever.

Today is the first day that I feel old.