First Off

So I'm busy mourning love lost and opportunities squandered, and I never stop to think that I'm in the best, or worst, possible place I could be at the moment.

So I step back, take a look at myself, and see that of anyone, I've got the most room to thrash around and flail until I grab hold of that ledge, that one that I can pull myself up on to and be stable again, for however long the ledge holds, until it inevetably breaks like a cliff on a Roadrunner cartoon.

But such is life, and if I know that it's going to break, at least I should be able to order some Acme™ Rocket Skates and power through to the next one... and the next one... and the next...

Because if I don't, and if I don't start now, I'm proper fucked.

This was my life. It never made much sense to me.

There are people out there that I owe major debts to, be they public, private, financial, emotional, what have you... To these people, I say thank you.

Now get the fuck off my back before I snap and take a Jr High with me.

And there's no reply.

So I'll slip and stumble some more over words and feelings as I try to make sure and hurt[not hurt] myself. Masochism[self-preservation] is a mighty instinct, one that's very difficult to overcome.

Gah, this skin itches.

Selah

--Ian

posted by Ian Quinn  : 8/24/2002 10:36:00 PM