Blogging

I feel like I’ve been asked to turn and cough and am instead receiving the ol’ finger in the cavity. 

It's going to be revealed. It's inevitable. But first. I've got to get off this damn couch.

I’m clouding my own judgment, making my crash to Earth even more dramatic, and potentially dangerous.

I want to get to a place where I can just enjoy the beauty around me, and not dip myself into the cold water over and over again.

I’m smiling and waiting. I’m put together and humbled. I’ve got not a care in the world. I just need you to come to me first.

I’ve shined myself up to be presentable. Approachable. More willing to offer than I am to take. And still no one comes.

I'm wondering what still makes us so angry at the performance we all apparently signed off on.