Push and Pull

I am who I am and that is nothing at all.  So long I remain silent.  I have been happy, I have been angry, and I have been sad.  Do we regret?  Do we fail?  What twisted life styles must we live to get any joy from it.  They shut off the lights and push me out.  They reach out of the shadows and pull me in.  I am in love with an image of my self.  I can not be this image.  Random thoughts pour through me and I feel a chill creep up my spine.  I steal things from others, their hopes, their dreams, and their lives.  Why not?  We all want to be someone else… sometimes. 

I have never thought about leaving this journal to die… I have just left it to grow stagnate and stale, which perhaps is worse.  Truly how many people still read here?  I still have my nightmares.  I still have strange dreams.  I have not awakened screaming for some time though.  I have gone back to my old job where I work my ass off for little pay.  It is almost worth it.  I am waiting on three different pay checks this weekend.  I hope that they are all big ones.  I owe a lot of restitution to people. 

There are cats all over the place.  I can’t turn around without having to dodge one.  Where did they all come from?  They look at me with intelligent eyes and tell me they just want to be loved.  Don’t we all just want a little love in our life; even if it is just once for a short while?  So I love them like they are my little spawning. 

I have just encountered the book Flowers for Algernon.  It is probably one of the saddest books I have read in quite some time.  To loose everything that you gained, in a blink of an eye… so sad.

Dreams dreams dreams… I wish I could have a dreamless night. 

Where is winter?