I have a difficult time knowing how to begin and how to end these posts. But I sure know how to fill in the middle! I fill it in with feeeeelings. Just a lot of oh-man-life-is-weird tales. Just a bunch of steam-of-consciousness holy bullshit. Just a couple of recipes for killer dips for your Super Bowl parties. Is today the Super Bowl? Like, Super Bowl Tuesday, right? How does life work again?
About two hours ago I was feeling all edgy and what some might call super damn frustrated. I was thinking, "MAN OH MAN! AM I GONNA WRITE AN EMOTIONALLY CHARGED POST WHEN I GET HOME!!!" But I just took a shower and a chill pill (Holy Basil) and I don't really feel that super damn frustrated edginess anymore. Thankfully. I guess. Sometimes that edginess gets shit done, you know?
As I have maybe mentioned recently, I am cleaning out the basement. The basement is where all the lost love letters go to die. The basement is where all the books-I-meant-to-read go to get all mildewy. The basement is the graveyard for everything in the past I abandoned. I also have unopened boxes of tampons for that day three years ago when I thought old Aunt Mary had come to pay a visit. False alarm. These dusty items and buried dreams are giving me all sorts of weird and vivid dreams lately. They aren't unpleasant per say, but they aren't entirely welcomed either. The reason most of these things have been relegated to the dark corners of the house is because a) they do not hold much value for me anymore, b) they hold too much value to me and I would rather forget them, c) a little bit of both. So it has been fun sorting through reminders of failed friendships and unfulfilled promises only to have them haunt me later on during my insufficient hours of sleep! Yeah!
Oh yeah, I wanted to write about how abandoned I feel by most of my family, but maybe I should save that topic for either a private journal or when I am feeling really super damn frustrated edgy again. I should probably keep it in a journal and on Twitter, huh? Okay, not on Twitter. I don't know what it is about presenting my problems in a public forum that is so satisfying. Maybe being open and vulnerable feels good? Maybe having other humans related to you is rad? I don't know.
BUT I DO KNOW that I should put this energy drink far, far away and not take another sip. It does not make me a rock star or even a monster (most of the time). It only makes me a jittery mess who sweats taurine. I think I will take my jittery bones to the library and read Don Quixote (a very funny book! recommended!) while trying to avoid the contents of the basement to creep back into my consciousness. Out! Out!