The first night of one year. But why tonight?
Because it’s as ‘good a time as any’. I kind of hate that phrase. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” is the other one.
It’s true though. I felt inspired in the bath tub. Of course it was. It’s likely that or the toilet. Just as likely as the shower really.
I’m outta the game. How’s this going to work? I have no fucking idea. I’m basically scared as shit. Fuck, this means I won’t have excuses, reasons, a crutch.
I hate using crutches. I know I need them sometimes. Great knowing they don’t have to last. Doesn’t make ’em any easier to let go of though.
I imagined a lot of cussing in this. It’s becoming increasingly evident to me that my imagination/ mind has one of its very own. Fantasizing the most amazing adventures of dysfunction and hyper vigilant self-criticism, which are implemented often.
Perhaps that’s why I write in weird abandoned paragraphs. An attempt to give breaths to my bulldozing. I’m trying really hard not to. Really.
So, here it is, the thing I’ve been thinking about for… well, I guess weeks could work, but maybe it’s been months. Perhaps a year? But probably & more likely since I was 3 years old.
“I’ll never be like them”. That’s another one I find sour to my senses. A cliche. But as I do this, I realize, I won’t.
*And a neither a word, nor whisper from my lips, will betray my efforts.