Wishing and Hoping and Dreaming..

I hurt today, my God do I hurt. I went to bed angry last night, after a particularly distasteful ass-chewing session at work. That along with reading this blog in it's entirety, there was much anguish to be devoured.

I woke up in an even more pissed off mood, I am guessing due to dreams, but I can't remember having any. Words and phrases kept running though my mind, "Hell hath no fury...." "I have a rage in me, the likes of that you have never experienced, yet you foolishly push me to the edge. Silly, sillly man. I devour idiots like you for breakfast"

One thing after another today, added to the ill mood, but I kept the rage inside, kept my head down and accomplished what needed to be done.

Now, my body is paying for the abuse my mind required to set itself right again.

I can hardly walk, wincing when I stand. Yes, it is a heavy muscle relaxer and alcohol kind of night. 

Wishing, hoping, dreaming...of being without pain(it will come), of having someone to lean on(it will come), of not being devalued simply because I am not fulfilling an outrageous ideal that I am living far beneath my potential (not holding my breath).

Perhaps this is what has me in such a foul mood...the universe keeps sending me people that are pushing me to do MORE...write, publish, run our company...like I have to live up to their expectations to be "accomplished". Seriously?!!!

The writing thing, yes, I can see that. And I concur, I am finally digging into my ability, my God-given talent and trying to make the most of it.

The rest, I sincerely don't fucking care. I know what I'm capable of. You got a glimpse of it and are in awe. And you will try to find any way that you can to exploit that ability and make the most use of it for the least cost to you.

Well, Sonny-Jim, I hate to tell ya, this ain't my first rodeo. You don't pay me half of what I'm worth to begin with, you micromanage me and you belittle & reprimand me for the tiniest slight, while allowing individuals who perform at a far lower level than me to run rampant. Sorry Hoss, that dog won't hunt. Re-evaluate the situation or be prepared to lose an incredible asset due to your inability to grow and move into the current century.

You are not the end-all, be-all of me. Keep chipping away at me and I will leave you holding the dust.

Contemplation

Quiet, that is all I want these days, is pure sweet silence. Silence away from the rambling of a drunk man that never shuts up. Silence away from the booming thoughts in my head, that I fear someone might hear they are so loud.
I want to breathe and hear nothing but the slow whistle of my exhalation.

I hate my life. I hate everything about it. He has sucked the joy, the life out of me. He is poisonous...

This was written in 2019