Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Sometimes I feel like I am there, but I'm really not. I'm never really at home even when I am home. This is the only way I know how to be. Booze didn't work. Now the drugs seem to be working, but the doctor is nothing more than a dealer, a middleman in the cycle of pharmaceutical medications. I am tired of them. I am tired of the worry.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
-
Hate fizzles away into the great big nothing. Love always grows into a great big something... and love lasts forever and ever.
-
Planetary forces that align against the spirit are indeed the spirits of disgruntled souls. They have places to go as the doors to the unive...
-
One of the most endearing qualities we humans possess is our inate ability to actually believe our own bullshit. We can talk our way through...
-
Conversations from within are filled with sin. The lines we cross are many and the ideas that shine are sometimes unworthy of experience. Ot...
-
The climb is not a climb at all. It is a process of learning that never comes to a close. Becomming whole, a man cannot stand being without ...
-
There is mold on the windowsill and the wind outside has strengthened. The musty odor permeates the air like a woolen blanket keeps us safe ...
-
My time there was distinctive. There was a feeling there that opened passage-ways, ways that allowed views of the wandering ones who remain ...
-
From one generation to the next we harbor the belief in the idea of happiness. We may not always know what it is that makes us happy but we ...