I love the rain...It helps me think

Fear, and panic in the air
I want to be free
From desolation and despair
And I feel like everything I sow
Is being swept away
Well I refuse to let you go

I can't get it right
Get it right
Since I met you

Loneliness be over
When will this
Loneliness be over?

Life, will flash before my eyes
So scattered and lost
I want to touch the other side
And no one thinks they are to blame
Why can't we see
When we bleed, we bleed the same

I can't get it right
Get it right
Since I met you

Loneliness be over
When will this
Loneliness be over?

Loneliness be over
When will this
Loneliness be over?

~Muse: Map Of The Problematique


Well, fuck. I wasn't intending to write anything, certainly nothing of substance; but it seems that the vain need of at least 4 hours of sleep has to take a back seat, to angst, wet & cold socks and selective reality, altogether.

So, I went drinking. For a change. It does seem to marginally define my everyday, at least for the point that I should be saving this for something, but somewhere else than home seems easier to be at right, for no other point that simple feelings. One might point out, that I am not at all stoic. Fortunately, as it is, I have no one to either need to impress nor live up to.

So, I went drinking with a colleague. The trip ended up at a place called The Moose, a location I've previously frequented; usually a hangout for post-highschoolers and easy targets for table football.

I got drunk, for a change. At times I think I drink to either hide, or forget, the proverbial slippery slope, I guess, but again, I feel previous little to either live up to or to make happy. Self included, of course, otherwise this would not be a proper desolation post.


You know how, in video fighting games, the characters often have a desperation move?

Up, up, down, down, left right, left right, B, A, Start.

Boom.

{Insert flashy CGIs and devastating damage}

...Boom?

As it goes, while at the Moose, not only was I reminded of certain vital things, I also ended up incidentally hearing a certain Muse track: Map Of The Problematique. Hence the italicized text at the top. I felt it'd add a certain panache, although certain individuals might label it as emo.

Out of a sudden, it all feels entirely not bearable. That twitch on the edge as you're balancing it all; just half a heartbeat short of staggering and stumbling.

Fuck it; for some reason I feel like I've just thrown it all on the floor, and seen it go to pieces - I am not even sure how it'll feel in the morning, but in some bizarre way I hope I'll remember this feeling; because at the moment it feels awfully more honest than most I've let myself feel for a while.

I'd add a boo-hoo for myself when I read this, like a post-it note to one self, for later reading when you remember what you wrote. Like that note you wish you wrote to yourself about a dream when you woke up late at night, and never could remember afterwards.

So. Fucking. Futile.

I can't get it right.
Get it right.
Since I met you.

Most definately time for the desperation move.

Cold, sogged from rain, and slight panic at the notion that I won't make it to work in anything resembling a normal work schedule...But then, who's counting, especially considering that I don't have any expectations to meet, barring the fact that I have a fucking trophy reminding me that I have been the quarterly employeee. Good on me. I'll be there, when I'll be there. No sooner.

Unfortunately, that goes for about it all. Perpetual standby.

...Someone, please turn me back on. There's too much inside going to waste, waiting and anticipating; it's no use like this.


...So it ends on yet another sob-story, and me (rightfully) blaming myself for failing to make the changes I'd hope to see. Ain't that a change, at that.

I love the rain. It helps me think."
~Sin City

It needs to rain a lot more. I'm not nearly done yet.