no substitute

The stars were out that night
It's been awhile and I still want
I still wonder if I'll see you again.
I'd like to try to add a little light
I'd like to try and bring you flowers
A bouquet of flowers and leave them
leave them on the floor just waiting
waiting for when I may see you again.
I wonder when I will see you again.



So just like that moth I ran to your flame
But the flame wasn't burning - oh...
So just like that moth I tried to look for your flame
I wanted to find just a small one, just something
I wanted to just find something that would let me know
I wanted to know that there might be just a small flame
Burning brightly for my advent.
Burning even just faintly just so I could find you.
Nothing between us but our empty night sky
Gilded with the stars
Don't forget that you are still written in the scars on my heart.
I'm still wanting to just run to your flame, just like a moth.

SD -9: Breakdown

This morning was a nightmare.  Preceded by a very nice jog/walk in Balboa Park.  Sat down in my new pants and ripped the hell out of them.  I was feeling fat, couldn't cool down so just sweating like a pig and everything seemed to just not be going my way.  I was ready to call in sick to rotation and sit at home and cry.
Then.
Then I remembered what my mom told me about my dad:
I think one of his metatarsals needs to be shaved down or even removed, due to constant skin irritation and hence a perpetual infection - that jumping into my thoughts this morning made me feel better.
Better about myself.
Better because what is happening to him is so much more grave.  And I know he's not happy about it but I'm sure he'll joke about it and have a smile - though at times I'm sure it's his base facial expression and not necessarily what he's feeling.  He's moving on with life despite the troubles and dealing with them.
No, ripped pants and being overweight are not the end of the world.
If he can deal with foot surgery then I will deal with my overweight and just move on, resolve to change since I have that power and carry on.

Last night we went to Sunset Cliffs.  Beautiful.

All is well, I control that aspect.

SD -11 --the prozac edition--

Here I go.  So may questions, so many impulses, rants, raves.  I can't put my train of thoughts back in an order, on a track or even bundle them up and stick them in an ice cream truck.

Today I made an impulse decision to get back on chemicals.  It was an honest trial phase and I'm tired of feeling that lump of black sadness grow in my throat.  I can't avoid things I've been avoiding and I certainly am not finding comfort in food.  I'm just gaining weight.  I'll admit I'm at a messy crossroads.  Today was when I felt that all too familiar feeling of all that depression brings.  I know it well, like that all too familiar feeling of getting a paper cut.  Distinct: nothing else like it in the world.  And then if it's a bleeder you get the blood everywhere.  Wondering where it all went.  I'm in SD and I should be happy but all I do is sleep and dream away my time.  I avoid projects and advancement.  I avoid evolution and just find my worries at the bottom of a bowl of peanut m&ms.  I've been looking for comfort from other chemicals.  Let's get real, I'm trained in chemicals and I'm going about this all wrong.  So to an extent I feel like I've lost.  I feel like I'm the loser.  But there is a freedom in finding a small bandage to help.  Rant, rave, tears, lumps in throat, I just don't have it in me right now.

Moving on is the key.  I don't want to sit down.  I have to keep moving on.