Another morning after..

...a crazy night before.

Just fuck...
explicit content
95% of human beings are too fucking stupid to operate an automobile. Just a thought.
I'm not having so many thoughts this morning, I need more coffee. I don't think there's enough coffee in the United States. Shit, I hate Wednesday. I think Wednesday is my Monday, but Monday is a fucking bitch too. Hm. I need some whiskey to go with my coffee. Fuck this.

Who shut off the light?
fucking hell
I hate these glowing red numbers. Thirteen seventy-two. No, that can't be right. Three seventy-two, no. Ah, three twelve.  suppose that makes more sense. My three am lady has returned to me. I don't know why she wants to dance after midnight. I'm tired of walking these same steps night after night. It's just a tunnel with no end, there's no light. If there is then it's a goddamn train.

A snapshot of the past.
You always had to eat, dinner was always made by noon. If you didn't eat then you were hounded, if hounding didn't work then she cried. That always worked, no one can stand to see and angel cry. You might as well be prepared for at least one hug, even on your first trip, because you weren't getting out the door without one. Everyone was welcome in her home. She always wanted you to come and never wanted you to leave. Sometimes I think she should have run a bed and breakfast, she'd have loved it. Every time I went up that way I stopped and sometimes I just needed to drive and I'd go to her. Now I can't. I've never felt as much as home as I did in her kitchen. I don't know where home is now.
I'm lost.

I'm fucking tired of the Grim Reaper
angry wolf
I'm getting fucking tired of people dying. That sounds a little stupid, doesn't it? Maybe a even a little offensive. I really am though. I don't know how many more funerals I can go to before I lose it. There were two on Thursday, I went to the Marine's funeral over the uncle I never met. Mom didn't and doesn't understand why. This eighty three year old man never bothered to know us, I don't think that was disrespectful of me. That young kid in that casket saved my life more times than I can count. That's where I went. Sunday was no better, another boy that was too young to die, it chokes me up. The second died on American soil, never woke up, I don't know if that was better for his mom or not. I lived in my dress blues this weekend. There's another funeral today, not one of mine, family. A great-aunt. Another suit, tie on this tie again. I have been completely sober since Wednesday and I don't care. I'm numb, feeling nothing, and that's dangerous. I don't really care about that anyway, that might be the problem.
I have Mondays.

The goddess of 3am never takes a night off.
My sleepless lady slipped between the sheets with me around 4:30 this morning, she gave me a few minutes to get settled. I didn't want to sleep or even try. When to the pool hall and had a few, not as many as I wanted. I was supposed to be home grading papers. I got them done, then my own work. Quick shower, but I didn't want to sleep. I tried anyway, but all there was..was a dream filled haze. I usually don't remember my dreams, but they've been rather vivid lately. Flashbacks or fantasies, I'd rather not dream.
This morning needs more caffeine.

Who puts ashes in a cardboard box?
CBA. Can't be arsed. there's a friendly phrase that I picked up from the British. Turns out they are actually good for something, who knew? Back to my original train of thought, CBA. It's a CBA Monday. That's the only place that I was going with that guys. I simply can't be arsed today. Starting with work. So many things on my desk that I need to do and I just CBA to give a fuck this morning about any of them. Now I'm in class and again. I'm pretty sure the midterm is going to be one question: when and how are you going to die? The answer will just be "young and violently." That should be in the course description, followed by the phrases "stay away from snakes, don't catch fire, and don't drink bleach." Entire class. Fucking graduation requirements, they're nothing but annoying anyway. What's he talking about now? Oh. Everything in this room has  the potential to kill me. Perfect.
Couldn't sleep again last night,  I guess I should have expected that. It's the next step in this tango. Insomnia sets in and for a week it is by caffeine alone that I set my mind in motion, then down. Dropped like a novice boxer in round three. Get a couple of dead hours, sleeping like a man in coma, then it's there. Sometimes it's on fast forward and sometimes the lights are out. Even worse when it's both, but I'm never sure until my eyes open. It's not as though it matter that I know, can't stop it's coming, but it might be nice to be prepared. Eh. Now insomnia has returned, she joined me in bed last night and talked until I was driven out. Fucking bitch.
So I went running. It's getting cold now, once the sun does down. I love these cool fall nights. I headed out to the lake, it's been a while since I watched the sun come up over the water. Laying there on the cliff I was again provided silent and clear time to think. It's not like running. When you run thoughts must follow a pattern, the pounding of footfalls and heartbeat make thoughts say on track. In the trees it's not like that, there aren't many noises out there to distract. Soothing sounds of a midnight forest. I've had too much time to think.
I never thought I'd be so happy to see midterms on the horizon. There's something else to think about, I'm even starting to enjoy studying Japanese. That's how I know things are getting really bad. When I finish my masters if I don't go for my PH.D. I'll probably be in trouble. Hah. There's a research study for you: The benefits of using education as a defense against the highs and lows of bipolar. Great, my life has become a dissertation. You know the true definition of dissertation? It's writing a book, except you don't get paid. (y)
Also, all kids are little fucking pyromaniacs. Thought for the day.

Fuck you, I can hide behind the first amendment.
explicit content
I feel that it's time for another warning label, just in case there are new comers who don't read back that far and I decide to write something insane. Since I like to do that.
The views and opinions expressed here are not necessarily the views and opinions of everyone [ or anyone ] and in no way reflect the views and opinions of or their affiliates, United States Public Safety Officers, the entire male gender, or other people whose names begin with the letter C. They are also not the view or opinions of the author.
If you aren't keeping up with this clear, profession train of thought, everything I just said was a simply sugarcoat for anything I might decide to say later. Welcome to reality, where you cover your ass with lies ahead of time and you aren't necessarily responsible for anything that you say. Just look at the government, they do it all the time.
Enough with that. Everything you find here will be honest. After all, I have first amendment rights.

When bad meets evil.
angry wolf
I'm forgetting who I am again. Slowly who I am and who I was are trying to become one person despite their complete hatred for each other. Although it's, admittedly, intriguing to watch. Compromising morals to satisfy something else and it's nothing worth the sacrifice.
There are mornings where I can't stand to look in the mirror anymore; it's sickening.

Past the point of no return.
not a good idea
I woke up this morning in darkness. No, that's not right because I haven't been to sleep yet. Sleep for me has consisted of a haze with too many thoughts and the flashes of pictures. Insomnia. The movie said it right: You're never quite asleep, but you're never quite awake. It's worse when you stop and try to shut down. The mind is unleashed and free to do as it pleases. You're too tired to stop the loss on control and to awake to sleep through hell. I can't clearly remember the last time that I truly slept. It might have been last Thursday or ten years ago, it doesn't matter. After around seventy-two hours the body no longer longs for sleep, it assumes that it's will never get it again and works to do without it. A morphine junkie who's given up one a high without the withdrawal period, just a going of something that was needed. Ah. The withdrawal period comes, but it sneaks up on you like a ghost. Around day five it attacks and for a good twelve hours you've completely insane. You start seeing things from the corner of your eye and then right in front of your face, reaction times and perceptions slow, senses seem to sharpen and your heartbeat thunders in your ears, there is too much blood in your caffeine system, among other things. It fades off after that to an extent, though the need for caffeine and that movement out of the corner of your eye still catches from time to time. There's probably a point where you pass out or die, but I've never found it.

Nothing ever works like it should...
Life doesn't always work out the way that you want it to. More often than that things turn out to be exactly the opposite of what you were hoping for. I suppose that life is a bitch that way, another one of those 'is' things that you can't change. It's hard to let go of those moments, the ones where you thought it would all be different. They haunt your memories like pathetic ghost that scream of what if and what might have been in misty voices that drag along your senses. It's almost sickening the way we let it rule our sleepless nights. We are nothing beyond creatures of emotion, that is true insanity.
There are a thousand things beyond our control that happen every day, every second, and never phases us. Breathing, blood flow, involuntary motor function, rain, snow, idiots. That last one might be a controllable problem, anyway. We can't control these moments either, the ones that never leave. Life is indeed a bitch, can't change that either. To have that control would be a lot like being a god. What if all your dreams came true, every wish granted, every prayer heard? I think we'd we worse off than we are. I guess some things really aren't meant to be.


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