My eyeballs are burning. They're burning right out of their sockets. Right out of the little cubbies they've called home for over 25 years. The nooks that caress their globe-esque figures. They're burning and this means that I won't sleep tonight. It's 3:30am. I may sleep yet. But with a head buzzing at a frequency too high to settle I will get no rest. And so, I write.
I've got nothing though. Nothing to share. For once I am out of opinions to project onto you and stories to disseminate. I'm basically useless...because let's face it...what am I without my opinions? I'm just a mediocre gal really. Small stature, small voice. So opinions are important to me. They feed my napoleon complex. Sure, I've got one. I'm 4 feet and eleven inches of chipped shoulder and snarly attitude and have something to say about everything. Except at this moment I don't have much to say. But I fear that if I don't write anything down I'll watch the clock turn an evil hour and curse the sleeplessness that has taken over my life.
Last week was an awful week for sleep. The week previous...just as severe.
One of the blogs I follow SemiCrazed focuses primarily on mental illness. I read her posts not because of the grandness of reading material or her regular disciplined writing habits, but because I connect with what she has to say. It matters to me. Recently she expressed on her blog that she'd steered too far from the theme and needed to get back on track. I have felt this way as well. That my blog has taken on a life, a calling, a meaning, of its own...and in a sense that may be a great thing...but if you've got this goal in mind...this goal to not only reach a certain audience but to KEEP that audience...if you've got that as a goal then...you need some focus. Some form. to your blog, book, nose picking rituals...ya know...if you like an audience when you gold dig.
So her recent post has inspired me to create an altogether new blog for fashion alone. Perhaps another blog for film. And another for poetry, prose, literary critique, etc. All linked, of course, to this blog.
I don't know. We'll see. I haven't too much time on my hands lately. And my computer is in the shitter. Not literally, though..would be a little odd if my computer sat on the can and took a shit..what a useless skill that would be.
Back to my point.
Which was...that I haven't any points to express tonight. I'm just being a baby, in bed, sleepless, mind running to and fro and skip skip skip to ma lou.. so on and so forth.
See how ridiculous things are when they make little sense at 3:40 in the EH EM? yeehaw.
I suppose it might be worth noting that...well that I haven't been on my meds since the summer. Winter has been causing a torturous amount of violence in my brain. I've seen dandier days. But I'm doing it all on my own. Using everything I learned from cognitive therapy to get me through the cloak of despair that covers my tiny self every day. and unlike this time last year, I actually see something on the other side... the light or whatever. at the end of the tube. tunnel. slide. clearing. cave. whatever analogy you wanna paint in your cervaux..think of that..and then picture something sweet at the end of it. that's what I see. I can feel that these days pass. They always make a come back...but they also fuck off for a while first. So you know. this is good. This is good, I say... and that's some great self talk right there.