Well, hell.

     I seriously need to blog more. But I'm not even sure very many people are still reading. I get into
these "funks", where I have NO creativity, and I don't even want to talk. I view everything that entertains me as a mindfuck and then I feel like I'm consumed by my own words. I forget that talking myself down- really fucks my own mind up. And then ... It's okay again.
     Okay. But IS it okay? Is it ever going to be okay, again? I really don't know. I think the world, or the majority, is pretty much fucked. I think I can be "okay" for my kids sake. Someone has to. I will limit my emotional train wreck days from now on, because it definitely works that way. I can control this powerless feeling. Uh huh. Do you know why I am blogging at 230am on a Tuesday ?
     I. Can't. Sleep. Forfuckssakes. There is simply, too many things I've got to stress about. Like feet. I hate them, so much. They are so nasty. And there are so many feet. Have you READ The Foot Book, man? Good God. Oh yeah, and I told another really freakin awesome blogger The Klonopin Chronicles, that I have a blog, but that it sucks. Lol. I mean, my poems are good. Totally. But this, this rambling, that I do, it is just that. A mess of rambles. Thrown together exactly as it comes into and out of my insane mind.
    "What the fuck is the point?"you may wonder. I don't fucking know. Maybe these are the voices in my head, escaping. Maybe I just do whatever the fuck I want, because "fuckin a I'm me". If you happen to be bored enough to read further back... There's never a goddam point. Maybe a bitch just needs a nap? Yeah. That's probably it. Hormones. Insomnia. "Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder". I think, all I really need is a hug, but don't ever fuckin touch me, man. I will cut a bitch. Oh, and the more I think about all of these thoughts, the more it seems like I might be "chemically imbalanced", I am almost certain anxiety disorders alone can't cause all of this ? Where the fuck are the doctors? Can I get a diagnosis, via interwebs? Graci.
    Okay, seriously, this is what happens inside my head. Now I'm gonna go drink some chamomile tea, and hopefully fall asleep. This is exhausting. X's & O's goddammit.