early morning coffee, noticing my home, grateful for the love it holds.
If I could tell anyone anything it would be that I still have love and still am grateful but it is masked in agitation right now. fucking grief.
nothing like crying openly at IHOP, making the waitress back away from the table.
I am refusing to feel behind ... but I still sort of feel behind.
Behind what, I don't know. It's not like I have to be anywhere or do anything by any certain time.
Sometimes too much freedom feels confining.
I really am feeling all out of sorts today. Every line I begin feels tinged with frustration and regret.
and I want to lash out in anger as a wake up call but that accomplishes nothing.
I'm feeling stuck between a rock and a hard place. Where do I go from here?