typical

And after much bitching and moaning, i'm already mourning the end of the holidays... things are drawing to a close, or rather they should be.. for me they stretch indefinitely ahead, dishearteningly undetermined..
in the grand tradition of myself, there is no money to be found, there is only bleak, bleak poverty and a looming phone call..
why then, are my spirits not crumbled? only time and much introspection will tell... and both are very expensive..
I've seen more movies in the last week than i care to admit and i fumbled on my cat-sitting duties yesterday... as guilty as i feel, i still procrastinate.. Stern would read volumes into it, and maybe he's onto something... they can batter and maim me, but i'll never tell..

i told last night, though... it's strange to know someone for quite some time and then tell them an old secret.. they look at you with new eyes, often sadder, and you wonder if it would have been better to remain silent... but then silence is what allows bad things to happen... and the bad things become secrets, which become silence..

why is it that i sound sad today when i'm actually not? or maybe i am and i'm just too far removed to know it... and if that's the case, why am i working so hard to be less removed? isn't it progress to gain distance on sadness? or is that just dysfunction..

there was some frolicking, but perhaps these things are better left unsaid.