CRACK.

not the drug. the sound.

god, i knew it was coming. and now, here we are.

[note: i chose to keep this post PG so i used "crap" a lot. replace with whatever expletive you deem fit]

you know that metaphoric bottle i own? the one at the back of my metaphoric closet - where i store up all of other people's crap (which, by the way, always seems like it's filled to the brim)? the one that i choose never to empty out, for fear of hurting someone. well...oops, i slipped. and dropped it. and now all your crap is all over the place. my bad.

but, hey - thanks for not offering to help clean it up. especially since it is your crap. great.

people ask why i choose to listen/internalize vs talk/externalize. it's because days like today remind me that it's less painful to be the listener. because, on days like this, when you finally do need to talk...you don't get hurt when the people who are supposed to be listening, aren't.

so, yeah - i was having a thoroughly WONDERFUL day. well, until i was reminded that despite this epic wall of SOUND that i have created to keep them out..."friends" still manage to creep in. yuck.

although, i must say, the good thing about being old - i'll forget that i care in about 4minutes. nice.

usually, i wouldn't write...i'd just play a song that expresses exactly how i feel. but suddenly, i don't like sharing.

iMisanthrope. and, to complete the look - Kafka and a bottle of Scotch. hah. kidding...

barely.