I dunno what it is. Maybe it’s just being sick, still, with something I can’t shake (or with a series of things which I can’t fight off ’cause the other thing lowered my resistance). Maybe it’s that everyone’s sick; i talked to friends yesterday from Philly and San Jose, both of whom came down with […]
I dunno what it is.
Maybe it’s just being sick, still, with something I can’t shake (or with a series of things which I can’t fight off ’cause the other thing lowered my resistance). Maybe it’s that everyone’s sick; i talked to friends yesterday from Philly and San Jose, both of whom came down with horrid ailments that sounds exactly alike the same day. People around work of coughing, people around school are doing the same.
Or maybe it’s the fucking weather. God. I’m not used to this. But it looks like the sun is creeping out now, so maybe, maybe, we’re tail-ending this deluge.
Maybe it’s about work; I’m so fucking far behind now that I feel like I’m ahead, the other rats about to lap me on the track. I’m behind in a way that feels like I’ll never catch up, yet not sick enough that I can use the excuse anymore.
Maybe it’s the mounting stack of things to do, taxes, bills, the entropy of a household this time of year when all the things put off can no longer be put off.
Or maybe it’s simply the pain and yearning that comes with spring’s approach, my body knowing the season even though my mind says otherwise. I feel the sap flowing in the trees and the flowers trying to bloom and my body feels a pull somewhere, somehow.
Whatever it is, I can’t fucking write. I keep trying. I was up last night with a bout of insomnia and trying to blog; nothing. Fucking nothing.
I need to talk about stuff, and I just find I can’t, like my fingers stiffen and my mind whirls and the power of speech is gone. And it leaves me with the usual mute frustration, the raw, disconnected feeling, the vague anger with no good outlet. Teeth grinding, head hurting. Pressure.
You know. The usual.
9 thoughts on “This place is getting to me. I think I’m getting the Fear.”
Tell me about it, darling.
The rats have passed me at least twice. My house is falling down around me. The garden in disarray.
I hear you, Karl Elvis.
“I got the Fear!”–Naked lunch ref, I think? I love that book. Too long since I read it again.
I’ve had the Fear of late…at any rate, the insomnia, the wanting/not being able to write. It’s not so good. I haven’t played a William Tell trick on anyone yet, but it seems like only a matter of time…
Good luck. I hope you feel better soon.
Yeah, my writing idea these days are limited to really interesting… sentences. Single sentences. So I just blather.
Close O but it’s Fear and Loathing.
And I’ll get over it. I always do.
***HUGS*** Understandable, hon. I think having some time off forced upon me has gotten me revved up again… Now if I can just find the oofdah to get my shit unpacked, you know?
My blog is so hemmed in by the real world now, all I can write any more are the blogosphere equivalents of “weight loss diets for pets” segments on the Today show.
I’m liking the self-imposed vacation, maybe I’ll just put a bullet in the thing and start over.
You’re preaching to the blocked and anxious choir. So on top of everything else that’s happened lately, there’s a new stripmemoir on the market.
And my reason for living is….
Oh, right. 24. As long as Jack Bauer is alive and well and throwing ex-lovers up against an interrogation wall, I’ve a reason to keep on keeping on.
And tell me you didn’t think that was hot, CG. Jack’s hands around her throat? Rrrrrowr.
At lest we can all blog about fuckin’ teevee.