Haven’t been writing anything here for it seems like centuries.  I wrote something yesterday at home, but I feel too vulnerable to post it today.

Wondering what the hell I’m doing, exposing myself in this way.  It’s nobody’s business, and who would care anyway.

Can’t see the wood for the trees and I don’t like the trees and don’t want to see the wood anyway.

I want to feel safe and I don’t want to deal with this impasse.  Just don’t.  Don’t want to revisit my past ever ever again.  I just want to step around the impasse, step around whatever else I have to deal with.  I’ve had enough of it all.

Too much of not enough.

Just traipsing through the desert here, wishing I wasn’t.  Wishing I’d been born a different person, wishing I was a different person now.

Don’t feel wise or understanding or anything.

I feel alone and left out.  No, that’s not a feeling.  I feel sorrow and anger and sore.  Great, all three.  Thanks god or the universe.  Or me. or whoever or whatever.

I know what this is.  It’s old stuff, it’s how I felt growing up, the senselessness of everything, wishing it would all stop, wishing it would get better.

The past two days I’ve been telling myself I must go swim in the ocean.  Just haven’t got round to it.  Yesterday I heard that a man got killed by a shark in this bay.  I was glad I hadn’t listened to myself and gone swimming, so I guess I don’t want to die.

Of course I don’t want to die.  I just want to feel safe and sure that I can take care of myself in the world, and have enough – you guessed it – money to pay for food and rent next month.

Too much thinking.  I got a comment from somebody, never put off til tomorrow what you can do today.  Well the way I’m thinking and feeling today I say never put off til tomorrow what you can put off for the rest of your life.



3 thoughts on “Vulnerable

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