Dead of night.
absence of light
All is not right
Anxiety not slight.
I don't know, just sometimes in the dead of night it hits me and it sucks.
The years pile up, I don't have so big a pile as some, but they are harsh ones with lots of jaggy bits and cruel edges.
Sux.
You pile up the years, but the thing is, when you collect the whole set, it's game over, and that just sucks.
Maybe it's the season, the light fades, and the cold comes. It creeps into your bones and you feel cold all the way through, like you'll never be warm again.
Then there's times of warmth and laughter, but sometimes even those kind of ring hollow, the music takes on an unwelcome tinny quality and I lack the patience to listen to even one song all the way through.
Old thoughts, old feelings, old conversations, locked on a disc for a device that is no longer made, in file formats for programs I have forgotten the names of.
A wealth of emotion, it meant so much at the time, yet now it collects dust in obsolescence and disuse.
Streams of thought that lead nowhere but I didn't realize at the time, and now they are wasted and gone. Irredeemable.
Maybe it's the impending winter, I do have a problem with those and live in exactly the wrong place for that.
Maybe it's yet another impending birthday, I take some better than others, I don't know why.
Maybe it's the rum, Lord knows I've got enough in me.
Eitherway, it just plain sucks.
Beck works for a few hours yet, I think I'll just go warm up the bed and try to read a book to get out of myself for a bit.
When she comes in, she'll appreciate the warmth.
It's nice to be needed, even if, just between you and me, most days I feel about as useful as tits on a fish.
RD