i thought i was something fierce

Isn’t physical therapy supposed to make you feel better?  Instead I spent last night with a migraine, complete with the aura of dizziness and my back hurting.  This morning my migraine is gone, but my back is absolutely killing me again.  And the tinnitus is back.  Can’t my body just be normal for once?

Two days ago it was snowing.  Snowflakes fell from the sky.  I was contemplating digging out my scarf, hat, mittens and winter coat, believing winter had actually arrived.  Today, my window is open and socks make me too hot.  Gotta love weahter!

My cat is a typical child.  I buy her toys.  Not all that expensive, but they do cost me money.  What does she love playing with?  The rug in front of the sink.  I thought there was a ghost who kept flipping it over at night.  Nope.  Just my cat.

I hate structure.  Strict, dictated lines of what I’m supposed to be doing every minute of every day.  I’m an artist.  I need the freedom and space, the ebb and flow of ideas.  Not restrictions.  Set me free!!  Except…. I’ve gotten more accomplished in 14 hours with my strict fixed schedule than I’ve done all week.  Damn it.  I’m one of those regimented people, disciplined and controlled.

SORP Update.  After writing last’s entry, I laid awake in bed thinking about the last SORP I started writing.  Everyone says that writing what you know is the best way to write.  Don’t create completely different characters; use people you know.  They will be more realistic.  So that’s what I’m going to attempt.  I don’t know if this will work, but I’m going to dedicate weekends to writing the SORP saga during NoJoMo.  If I work on it during the week, great!  But the weekends are specifically SORP.  By the way – as you read it, if you have an idea for a better title, let me know.  SORP stands for Story of Random Proportions and is really a placeholder title for the random things I like to write.  A way of keeping them straight, but labeled.  Part of the concept of SORP is thinking about what my life will look like in 20 years, 30 years, 50 years.  What would my children and/or grandchildren see?  What would I see?  What would be important?  What would fade from memory and be forgotten?  What might be important events in my life when I’m 77 years old?  What would no longer matter?  Would anything I’ve done or said matter at all? I don’t really know the answers to all that.  But I do have ideas.  So SORP, while a work of fiction, is a look into that idea.  Not necessarily writing what is going to happen to me in the next 50 years, but trying to look at the last twenty years from 50 years into the future.  Make sense?

Good.  It shouldn’t.

Could’ve been a night like any other
One of us has to drive
One of us gets to think
I’ll force a laugh to break the silence
It’s gonna get harder still
Before it gets easy
You can’t keep safe what what’s to break

I’m alone in this
I’m all as I’ve always been
Right behind what’s happening
She’s all lost in this
She’s all like she’ll always be
A little far for me to reach

I was just a boy like every other
I thought I was something fierce
I thought I was ten times smarter
Love would be something that I just know
(Something I just know)
How you gonna know the feeling till you’ve lost it
I’ve been losing plenty since

I’m alone in this
I’m all as I’ve always been
Right behind what’s happening
She’s all lost in this
She’s all like she’ll always be
A little far for me to reach

Maybe something else I’m missing
Something good and your the reason
It’s a dream but there’s a real long wedding

I’m alone in this
I’m all as I’ve always been
Right behind what’s happening
She’s all lost in this
She’s all like she’ll always be
A little far for me to reach

I’m alone in this
I’m all as I’ve always been
Right behind what’s happening
She’s all lost in this
She’s all like she’ll always be
A little far for me to reach
 
Always Be ~ Jimmy Eat World