Rainy days like today make me sad. Sunny days, that direct heat blasting through the cars window, irritates me more often than not. So basically what I’m saying is: I’m a miserable motha-fucka. It’s this never ending raw nerve that walls me off from family and friends, hoping to solve a spiritual problem with geography, I feel myself disintegrating. The best I can do is cram my eyes and ears full of meaningless candy and picture, so as not to disrupt this perfect imbalancing act. In simple metaphor it’s this: many years ago I started packing shit into a garbage bag that I carry everywhere I go. You might ask; what’s wrong and what’s that smell? Oh, that’s just my bag of shit I refuse -refuse, is it?- I refuse to let go of or put down. The bag just keeps getting heavier and smellier and stickier and closer. It’s my bag of shit though.
What’s that law of physics? An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object: what happens? A time will come soon where I either leave the bag behind somehow or finally drown in the stench and foulness of it all. Reality is both true and false at once. A paradox I suppose? Will I look back one day at this stretch of pain and wonder how I could have let life squeeze me so hard when escape was so evident? Or will I reach an apex, a destination, and ask myself why I held on so tight for so long?
Some wounds cut just a little too deep.
AKBOOGY 