Black Thoughts

I have all these thoughts and yet they don't even make sense to me. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm going crazy. It certainly feels like it. I don't even understand what goes on in my head 90% of the time.

But maybe I've always been crazy and I'm just realizing it now because I still can't really write. A couple things have come to me, but nothing of substance. In the past, my craziness, my fractured thoughts were poured out onto paper (or rather, a computer program) and came together to make some sort of sense. That's the way my muse worked, but lately, the thoughts are still there, still fractured, but they won't come onto the paper the way they did. So, I'm left trying to deal with them on my own. It's rather frightening.

Taela and I are going to go to Toronto tomorrow, just for the day. I need to get out of here and we need to spend some bonding time together, so it seemed like the perfect solution. I'm going to go up to see Meg at the end of the month, but I needed something before then or I might really lose my mind.

I hate my job. I really do. I didn't mind it so much at first, but now... I hate computers, or at least the technical part concerned with them. I'm not too crazy about people either. By the end of the day, I just feel so lousy, so stressed that I'm ready to burst. Like I wasn't stressed enough, anyway.

Apparently the stone will be ready by Decoration Day. I guess that's important, but... A stone makes it real, final. Not that it already wasn't, but, denial is a beautiful thing.

Decoration Day is going to suck. Father's Day without my father. A day spent a lot of my relatives around (and not even the fun ones), and a visit to cemetery. Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun, doesn't it?

This is one of those days, when I'm longing to just get away from it all. Run away from everything and become someone else. Or at least change myself in some irreversible way. I'm just so sick of my life.

Yep, this is definitely a black day. Maybe I'll try to write. This used to be the kind of mood that would produce some of my best pieces, when I was feeling dark and angsty then it was easy to write stories that were dark and angsty and that's what I do best. So maybe my muse will finally come to me and let me produce something worth while. It's not likely, but I might as well give it a shot.