my lot in life...

is it loneliness? am i destined to a life tragically fallen to the way side of happy? i'm uncertain and i miss certainty more than i miss my sanity. i am completely exhausted. i am drained. i am my own everything. it's so hard to be one's everything. these solitary moments make me want to crawl into bed, rest my head on my mother's womb, feel her stroke my hair and softly whisper, "shhhhh, baby. it will be okay." will it? that uncertainty creeps up again. it's a pesky thing. hey... maybe i can trade it for clarity? because, yea, i keep doubt and mystery in both pockets. happiness is in there some where, but, maybe, i have holes in the bottom. it slipped out and i trampled over it years ago. i've been frantically checking all the pockets for some time. maybe, just maybe, the dry cleaners found it. would they return it to me? or... finders keepers? ugh. clarity looms over me and i reach for it like a baby with its rattle just out of reach. i cry, i pout, i stamp my feet... but, still, it rests just inches from me. it swings back and forth with the season's tide. it rushes up and is sucked away, pieces of my innocence trapped in its undertow.

i've said... to be a good writer, you must be eccentric. crazy, even. profound thought does not come from clarity. it's merely temporary (permanent) insanity. because... if it were clarity, one might be able to hold onto those thoughts. but, no, they are swept away as quickly as they come.... just like the fucking tide.

time flies even when shit sucks.