Walking Out The Well Door

Today I noticed for the first time the bullshit on the opening page of this website. I changed browsers, so I actually had to put in my password and such because there was no cookie. So I go to the front page, login and glance at the sour page that passes for the initial page of the site. Like I give two flying fucks that Nancy got knocked up by Bradly and they are going to spit out a small litter of puppies. Who gives a flying fuck? Perhaps I will enter some news “Whipping Boy arrested for killing 10,000 raccoons.” “Whipping Boy arrested for selling crack to a 10 year old boy.”

Last night I feel into that deep dark well. It was dark, cold and rather rank. I splashed around, but did not yell or panic… I have been here a thousand times and I will continue to return. They say one should take medicine for this, but I do not wish a pill to pull me out of a deep dark well. I will cope as I always have and move onward.

I think last night centered around how many times I feel the failure. How I some how think I have failed at my job, at my relationships and generally in my life. I lost dreams and never acquired new ones to grasp. Therefore, I lack a drive to do much.

Tonight I will go home, smoke a joint and reflect perhaps. A blank canvas awaits me. It will be filled this evening with the rough sketches of what I wish to display. Perhaps on the morrow I will pick the colors and go for it. Then again, perhaps I will just simply walk out the door and see how far I make it.