Hi-ho and hello.
Ever have those days where you just don’t get it? You don’t get why there’s anger, you hear an explanation, you get the slew of angry banter and utter “I don’t know”. Sometimes it just comes off like something inflamed, torched, and you do everything you can to understand why this one little thing, seemingly innocuous, unintended, and an inquiry? Why? And then I find myself thinking to myself is it the anger that I see? Is that a varied expression of love itself? Am I crazy? Or, is it genuinely that there’s so much frustration due to the hopes and wanting for expectations that it doesn’t fit the cut? And of course you may think I’m asking this question to you, and maybe I am, but I feel like I’m asking this to anybody and everybody. Why do we expect everyone to flow and work the way we want it to work why do we get so damn irritated at people when it doesn’t go the way we assumed or had hoped it was going to be?
I dig. I dig away at the layers, uncover the bones, the tattered rags of years long lost, I dig. I question you, question me, I can’t decide which is and isn’t. Ne’er a worry, I dig. I dig at the sludge, dig at the heart, the levels from skin to bone, I dig. A darkness holds me close, I dig, my heart begins to bleed and the layers become revealing, the levels unraveling, I dig, callous and wounds, life and difference, I dig. I dig. I dig. Ne’er a stop, I dig, ne’er a thought, hands pounding raw and I dig. Incapable of stopping, a need, a call, a compelling to dig, dig, dig. My heart races, it pounds, it thunders to my ears with cacophonic atrocities as I dig, sigh, sweat my tears, and dig.
When is too much too much?
I’m out for the night/day, I’m tired and need a reset.
C’est la vie
Good morning and good night, good night and good morning.
Nosce Te Ipsum
Dream Dark Stories 