Friday, November 2, 2012


I could write words here. I guess I am. The fact that you are reading them now tells me so. Or rather, the fact that you will be reading them shows me that I did. Maybe no one reads them. I can't say that I am writing for you, though this is available for others, so maybe in a tiny way I am.

Usually I am inspired. I have something on my mind or a question. Sometimes I just ramble on about what's going on in my life. I list the things that I did, or want to do. Other times I yell and scream about stuff that makes me mad. For some odd reason, those seem to be that most popular posts. Well, those or the ones that mention sex. Funny that extreme emotions or sexual details tend to make people curious. I know that they do me. But they can't be conjured or extrapolated out of thin air.

Life has been busy and at the same time it has been slow. You know what I mean. Or maybe you don't. I really do not know because I don't know who you are. That is okay though. At least you took a few moments to peer into my life. You can look around at all the stuff here if you like, but it will not matter that much if you do. Some posts here are like a loaded gun, others just bits of fluff that kind of float out of my head at different times. The years and the words are adding up.

I don't get that upset about much anymore. It is not that things do not bother me, but my outlook and response is different. I do not rage against that which I cannot change. I refuse to waste my time arguing with people whom have already made up their minds. All that those people do is frustrate me and spend minutes and hours of my life which I cannot get back. Maybe someday I will be mad again. Maybe I will write about it or perhaps I will not. I don't write about sex 'cause I am not having any at the moment, not that I ever really wrote much about that part of my private life anyway. Some things are best kept between those who share them, not the world at large. Getting used to being single takes days, every one of them at a time until one day I will wake up and not think about him at all. I just haven't been in the mood to get tangled up with anyone, not even for a night or two.

It is a beautiful fall day. It would be a good day for holding hands, skipping and crunching through the leaves down my street. I have a street full of colorful leaves, bright sunshine and a hand to hold. I realize that most of my infrequent free time is not spent in looking for things to do, but rather looking up and around for someone to do them with. I am drowning in a sea of friends that, for all intents and purposes, I seem resolved to avoid lately. I don't mind surfing in and near a crowd, but I'd rather not get involved. I listen to the voice mails, I see the texts but I rarely respond. I enjoy my own company and that is enough for me right now. People don't seem to understand that we are someone when we are not with them and even though we may be far and silent at times, it does not mean that we are not well.

I think that is enough words for now.


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