The hard decisions I've had to make over the last 27 years and the consequences that followed are mine and I own them completely. But I sure as hell wish certain people knew their origin, the corners I felt backed into when they were made. Or the fear and sadness that spawned each and every one of them. Maybe then I would feel...what? Understood? Vindicated? I am judged by having made them, yet I would never have chosen any of them if I had not been forced to.
There's a constant sadness that I can't shake off now. It lives here, a permanent resident within this 5'1 frame. If I could exorcise it I would. Believe me when I say I have tried to "get over it." The last time I had enough money and one remaining refill left...well, let me conclude for the sake of time that even a proper Rx failed to improve my affect.
Why is it that everyone who doesn't actually have a Babadook thinks it's as simple as putting your foot in its chest, kicking it down the basement steps and padlocking the door?
Today was the last bad decision. From now on I will not go forward, backward, or sideways. I'll just float like so much wreckage until I take on enough water to sink.
5:42 p.m. - 2017-05-30
Recent entries:
if it's in a word, or it's in a look... - 2017-06-17
slipping below - 2017-05-30
remember when middle distance was failure? - 2016-12-22
calm your tits america - 2016-11-20
send a winchester, just in case - 2016-11-15
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