I supposed I ought not be too awfully surprised by anything I do right about now, but...

Still.

What da fuck's goin' on here?

It's currently about 20 of 1 in the am, I have to work at 9am and I just got back from the store.
Needed dog food.

Now, I'm gonna feed the dogs, get more feed from the barn for the wabbits and woostas, prepare two stalls (ie: bedding, filling water buckets and distributing hay) in case it rains tomorrow and Eric has to put the horses in while I'm at work, then I've got one more load for the dryer and a few dishes and a few kitty-potties to pick, a floor to vacuum, then... I dunno. Something, probably.

This, after I slept again after I got up at 5am. In other, less confusing, words... I got up at 5am, was up for a while, then went back to sleep til around noon, which, these days, is highly unusual for me.
But, I feel completely exhausted.
Or did.

Now, I'm a little yawn-y, but otherwise fine.
I know I have to work, but I still wanna do alla this other shit.

Why now, though?
Why not earlier?

*sigh*

Frick if I know.

Maybe it's just PTSD from the events of the previous month, which shall evermore remain nameless.
Stupid month.

I have no idea, but it's... a little unsettling, as in: How much further is it gonna go?, Why it is happening?, What is it that's happening?, Am I actually okay, or what?

I still feel a little worn out in spite of all the sleep and I can't even find a comfortable place to set my mind, because the recent past sucks and the future is scary for now, so I keep just watching tapes of Nick@Nite with the Munsters-n-shit.
About every tenth thing I watch is The Stand, too.

*several minutes later*

Okay.
Ya wanna know how this whole episode feels?
Like a fall off a horse, before ya hit the ground.

Usually, when I've fallen off for whatever reason, I've managed to get out a "shit" or a "aw, damn!" some time between becoming airborne and hittin' the dirt.
But...
this is like a never ending fall.
I've said every cuss word I know, made up a few new ones and still, I feel like I'm waiting, cringing, for the impact with the hard-assed, or completely muddy, ground.
Has to be one or the other.
Can't be dry sand or anything soft.
Not in MY life.

'Bout the only soft thing I ever land in is shit.

If I have impacted the ground already, I don't really know it.

Everything kinda hurts in a general sorta way anyway.
My heart, my mind, my body...
How would I know, ya know?
Without that tooth jarring thud?

Did it already happen?

God, I hope so.
I really do hope I'm waiting for nothing.
And, that I stop this soon.
It's tiring.

Caught in the cross fire.

Yeah, I am.
Again.
But, a totally different kind than I've ever been caught in before.
And, ya know what?
I know, somewhere deep inside, under all the fear, pain and (mostly silent) rage that this time is better than it ever was before.
This crossfire ain't so bad.

I've been caught in worse.

Still, I feel more than ever before that if I get "hit" by any of it and go down, if I fail for any reason, I'm gonna be fuckin' up worse than I ever have before.
'Cause if I fuck up this time, I'm gonna be hurting more than just myself.
That scares the hell outta me.

It also motivates the hell outta me.

But, I guess if I've learned one thing in this idiotic excuse for a life I've led, it's that God really doesn't give you more than you can really handle, even if you don't know or even think you can.

I can't count the number of times my life has driven me to my knees, the number of times I've shrieked at God to just kill me like He's done damned near everybody I've ever loved, the number of times I've desperately wished for a "destruct" button somewhere on my person that I could basically hammer on.

But, nooooooooo.
Can't have that, can we?

'Course not.

I don't even know, except for the grace of God, how I've made it this long.
How the shit hasn't outright killed me is beyond me.
Lord knows it's hurt me enough to cause death.
You'd think, anyway.

There've been times when it would have been nothing short of merciful to have killed me, it hurt so bad.

But...
I survived.

And, if I've survived all the previous bullshit, I can handle this, too.

However, I'm reserving the right to wish for a time before I die when I don't hafta sweat some-damned-thing or another.
Kinda like a vaction.
Only one I'll ever hope to get, too.

And, just to letcha's know...
I'm laughing at some of this as I type, here.

And now, I'm gonna haul my butt out to the barn and get that shit done.
Then...
Feed the dogs.
Laundry.
Dishes.
Floor.
Work.

Some plan, huh?

Peace, y'all....

Posted by: Stevie at 01:17 AM

Comments

Posted by: assrot at July 07, 2005 08:32 AM (ARCEn)

Posted by: Stevie at July 07, 2005 06:58 PM (j3l03)

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