Diary Of Some Sort Of Life #18

Tuesday, 21st March, 2017

A horrible, shiny morning. Cold air. Unable to focus, physically and mentally. The effects of being human. The longer the days get, the feeling of repeating last year starts to resonate. The difference this time, will be, the painfulness of words said.


Bless and damn the silence. Be thankfully resentful. Bridge the gaps with torturous imagination. Let it reign down, as usual, and be thankful that you feel it. Sometimes, unfinished business can be released,like a feather in the breeze. Or taken to the grave, because the only cure was resolution.

How very poetic I become in my angst. What a prick!


I’m desperately trying. It’s a rabbit hole I’ve been down, too recently. Concentrate. CONCENTRATE!


Now all I see, is timed avoidance. Perfectly synchronised. Like a machine. Desperate for declaration or closure? Dangling like a puppet, no longer intriguing.

It amusing, I suppose. The differences, people put on the importance of being. Wealth, love, security, happiness. You can never really tell, what an individual deems, predominant.

Back in my old life, all I cared for was security. Paying the house off. Earning money. 

Now it’s all gone. I’m glad. It’s a distraction. The greatest distraction from the clock. Forever ticking, counting down, to the end. Where you realise, you spent your whole life acquiring the only things, you can’t take with you. That’s if, you get to, take anything at all.


I’d like to say, words said anger. Really, it’s all truthful. Isn’t it always? I dunno? This life thing. It’s not designed for you to get an angle on it. 

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