People always think of a young person when such a subject comes up, but our society has no use for us seniors.
Sometimes I feel like I’m swimming upstream through a muddy river of my own blood and guts fighting to keep from going over the falls which empty into some forever dark, misty abyss. Upstream my sanity hangs crucified from the side of a giant, rusted gate, the only opening in a miles long fence made from steam punk metal.
Carvings of all my failed dreams create a grid styled in paisley tattoo on the sweating fence panels. Inside dwells the remnants of a carnival struggling to hold onto the appearance of festive.
My heart cannot hide from the pain as I succumb to the darkness again.
Another low settles in.
I’ve been in this depressed malaise since June. It has held me back from doing so many ideas of projects that I decided that I should do. Laying here in my bed recovering from yesterday’s medical emergency so very frustrated over what I haven’t even started. Praying for strength.
“Kind of a shame ’cause I did like that dress” ~ Tori Amos Mother said it was better this way. She said they had a better place for me to live and a room just for me. She said they would give me all the care and love I ever need. She said they wouldn’t yell at me or hit me. She said they would understand. Maybe I won’t have to play Uncle Denny’s game no more. Where are you, my new home? […]