Skip the walk. These boots weren't even made for you.

Mr. F and I engaged in a little pillow talk last night before heading off to slumber land and as always it continued to infect my mind into this day. The conversation has supplied me with one of those SMASH BOOM quiet on the green moments where the whole world goes hush and I am left standing there, my mouth in a gaped and rather imbecilic shape, while I attempt to take in what has been placed before me, by me. My brain is sly. Out foxing the fox is extremely hard, especially when you are the fox.

As you all ready know, I am not a morning person. I'm probably not even an early afternoon person. Every day I wake up, squeeze my eyes shut, and my immediate thought is "Not again. Is there no end?". Most people take that as some kind of depression and think I should be up on Ward D under close supervision lest I try to hurt myself. This is not the case, nor has it ever been, and it irks me to that I might be categorized as some cowardly creature hell bent on ending something this bizarre, ruining all the people who have affection for me, when continuing on will provide me with so much more... just more. Besides, to mar this fabulous body, or disrespect perfectly good toxins seems a shame don't you think?

I have come to grips with the fact that I am incredibly selfish. And arrogant. The touch of self-righteousness is a bit annoying, I'm the first to admit it. I might seem bitter but I prefer to label it "conscious". I often stare at myself hard in the mirror trying to will myself to feel anything but acceptance and self forgiveness. It never works. I don't know why it would. I love arrogance and selfishness. I am especially fond of them when they are backed up by forwardness and honesty. Do not misconstrue this with malicious intent.

My prophet and I were talking once. I was ranting and he was laughing. I didn't understand why I had a hard time relating to people, why I couldn't just lower my shields and weapons and be assimilated. Why I couldn't just behave for once in my life like a normal, cooperative person. He told me that everyone is born with a rule book and they follow it. I threw my rule book out and with that action, relating became impossible. Maybe he's right. Though I do know that Diplomacy and I have never seen eye to eye since the break up.

What the fuck are we doing and why are we doing it? We all walk about on lost feet staring through blind eyes like sacrificial lambs when all we are truly doing is slaughtering our own spirits in the name of expectation. From ourselves, from others, it really doesn't matter where the bullet is coming from if it's heading straight for you. Then again, I might be the only one feeling like this...

I feel like I have spent my whole life waking up and mashing my feet into a size 5 shoe when I wear a size 8 1/2. They don't fit. They never fucking fit. But day after day I put them on and am surprised to find that once again they are not comfortable. When my soul finally screams itself out of this skin, I will be supremely happy.

Everyone keeps telling me I cannot run from my problems. Like hell I can't. Who the fuck decided you had to see all your problems to the bitter end? And why wasn't I there to punch them in the mouth as soon as that ill advised bit of information came out of their ignorant face hole? I'll take on just about anything, but if I don't see reward looming up at the end of the race, I figure why run towards it? Why is disengagement seen as complacency or weakness?

I'm going to plod on. I'm going to leave when I don't like the going ons. I am going to search until I find the shoes that fit. And then I'm going to smile and quite possibly dance about while making up one of those songs I sing when there is no one around to hear it.

I might resemble Tabitha pushing her puzzle treat ball around waiting for crunchy goodness to dispense, but that's fine with me. My treat ball is half full and I have all the time in the world.