Nighttime

Nighttime gets a little odd when trying to make anything make ends meet these days.

The winds of mischief and shenanigans blow in and upset the peaceful balance after a semi-normal day. Numbers get much harder to see, especially when they’re not there at all. The air rages when I’ve been out too long or have done what it considers as “too much”. Then devices and people begin to act strangely, lmao.

False complaints make their way across the airwaves, and then forgiveness releases with a sigh and head shake.

Me: “I guess it’s time to go home then.”

Trying to do the “in between” work goes left quickly, but I gotta do what I gotta do until someone actually claims me. I can’t worry about issues that aren’t yet solidified.

My embedded programming and ID number always make me feel “naughty” for doing certain tasks, lol. But then my rational mind kicks in like, “Wait! You don’t actually have a job, so there’s nothing to actually conflict with. Girl, you better go ahead and GET YOU SOME BILL MONEY!!!”

The stuff I have to go through while trying to earn these funds couldn’t even be made up by someone with a vastly wild imagination. I really need to start rebuking folks.

Meanwhile, certain parties repeatedly output all the reasons under the sun NOT to claim me instead of looking at even ONE of many good reasons to do so.

Excuses.

I’m not really attached to what I do currently. I do it because it’s all I have to do right now. It’s a calm little something-something until I can get somewhere long-term.

My life isn’t over just because some desire it to be so. No one knows for sure, but I probably have a good 15 or 20 years to be useful somewhere.

Tonight I tried the Marketside Creamy Mushroom & Herb Soup. I read the label first to ensure there weren’t any pig flavorings in it. All clear. It was creamy and tasty. I liked the large mushroom chunks and the authentic flavor. I ate the entire bucket and highly recommend that you do the same.

I still haven’t gotten a stuffed crust pizza, but I know which location to visit. I’ll be picking one up once I finish the gigantic five cheese I have.

That’s about it for tonight. I listened to C’s acappellas on two songs last night. One song was “In Pieces”. The other was “My December.” “In Pieces” sounds so effing painful when there’s no music. You can really hear the hurt in his heart. “My December” was sad because it sounded like he just wanted someone to love (at that time), and he was more than willing to give everything he had away for it.

This man was a very raw artist, much like I was like 15 years ago. He was notorious for sharing his pain and struggles with the world. Unfortunately, not all people have good intentions for our hearts or personal struggles when we share them. Some lock them away for future smearing, blackmail, and other “malicia”. Others see them for the journey snapshots they truly are and can accept when the subject grows or changes.

Unaccepting parties will try to force the subject back into one of those time-frozen frames, even if it means harming them severely. Others will be happy to see they aren’t stuck in those frames anymore.

The problem is that there’s no way to filter who or what’s out there lurking. I think most artists do what they do with good intentions, but that doesn’t mean everyone has good intentions for them.