02-21-2006, 04:08 PM
Occhidiangela,Feb 21 2006, 07:22 AM Wrote:[right][snapback]102518[/snapback][/right]
There is no other way of saying it. So I will come right out and say it.
Not an excuse, more of an explaination.
Since I have quit drinking, and dried out, my wit seems to have dried out with it. All I seem to be left with is verbal bludgeoning.
I write much the same way I think. The words spill out. I guess I have this whole conversational style of prose going on. I dunno. No clue. Haven't thought to much about it. But booze was the lubricant that allowed the refinery to run.
Lately, it seems everything is filled with more vitriol. Caustic barbs and blunt force. The refinery workers are on strike with out their daily tot of rum. I have noticed it away from the keyboard as well, on those occasions where I am required to do more than grunt or make guestures to indicate my desires. I was accused of havint Tourettes the other day. Which, er, really didn't help matters because I just turned loose on the accuser.
It's like being constipated. And no, I am not saying that to take this post in to the gutter, there is no way of saying how it really is. It's like there is a whole flood of stuff wanting to come out. I can feel the pressure. Aint nothing happening. And no, for once, this isn't toilet humour. People tell me to go back to drinking because at least somewhat charming and a lot nicer to be around when pleasantly plastered.
I am so confrontational and angry and I am not even sure what the hell is wrong with me any more. I just go around in a constant state of being pissed and I know it spills over in to my writings but I don't think I realise the degree of which it does, probably because I am in some sort of stage of denial or something perhaps where my brain refuses to acknowledge the full degree of my, er, well, see, I was going to write a word here that rhymes with "duckery" but I can't seem to think of the word I want in a polite context and now I don't know what to say. And have completely derailed my self to boot. Which in reality only causes more frusteration which in turn makes me want to unleash the acid barbs to make my self feel better.
All alone, or in twos,
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.
And when they've given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy
Banging your heart against some mad buggers wall.
"Isn't this where...."
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.
And when they've given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy
Banging your heart against some mad buggers wall.
"Isn't this where...."