The Bloody Doors Off

What the fuck am I even doing here?

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Graphic designer, playwright, occasional asshole

I had words for it, and everything

There was something specific I was going to write about tonight. Even had a title.

It’s gone now. Maybe it’ll come back.

That’s the thing about (my) memory. The stuff you want to remember slips easily into the background, while the stuff you’d prefer to forget is front and center. And I’m so tired of that shit. I do not like living in the past; it’s a wasteland of lost opportunity and 20-20 hindsight. My choices got me to this place, and I need to make the best possible moves for my future.

So why am I so afraid? No, seriously. Fear. It lives in me. I worry about making the right decision and get so wrapped up in the ‘what ifs’ that nothing gets done. Well that’s not entirely true. Laundry got done today. That’s pretty much auto pilot though.

Dammit I’m so tired of feeling scared. Never used to be that way; even in the worst of my depression I didn’t feel this. And I can pinpoint it to 14 months ago. Even now that moment haunts me.

It’s a ghost I can’t shake. Like the poltergeist in the apartment tonight. There was knocking behind me; even the cats heard it and reacted. But with my luck it was a replay of Interstellar. (If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll get the reference).

Too many damned ghosts. Anyone got a Scooby snack?

p.s. I chose this song tonight because it’s a legitimate question for me right now.

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One response to “I had words for it, and everything”

  1. H Avatar
    H

    HST noted this. Keep fighting. You will make it.

    “Like most others, I was a seeker, a mover, a malcontent, and at times a stupid hell-raiser. I was never idle long enough to do much thinking, but I felt somehow that some of us were making real progress, that we had taken an honest road, and that the best of us would inevitably make it over the top. At the same time, I shared a dark suspicion that the life we were leading was a lost cause, that we were all actors, kidding ourselves along on a senseless odyssey. It was the tension between these two poles – a restless idealism on one hand and a sense of impending doom on the other – that kept me going.”

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