On demons and other nasty creatures...

I'm sitting here, looking at my previous post and feeling powerless.

You know the feeling?

When all your best efforts and good intentions melt into a glutinous mass of nothing. When you're up against that proverbial wall with no room to breathe, nowhere to run. When you have to face reality and surrender.

I've tried, brothers and sisters. I've given it my best shot. I've done my "Win one for the Gipper" bit a hundred times. And today, for what it's worth, I'm feeling beaten. Not broken. Just exhausted and discouraged.

You know the feeling?

I'm sure you do.

A volatile existence is an occupational hazard in this industry.

And one of the things that dictates that existence is, you guessed it...

This is not about big money, fellow travellers, just the every-day subsistence-level kind.

And so, as it has happened in the past, I have to disappear for a just little while into the amorphous realm of the Elysian Fields.

In the vernacular: I had to get a job.

Another kindred spirit, Kid in The Front Row, was nice enough to leave an encouraging comment in my last post. It's why I posted this. I'm going to borrow his profile "about me".

I am a Writer. Everything else is just to pass the time.

He knows the feeling, I'm sure.

Should I even go there? Part of me wants to stay anonymous and part wants to bare my soul as was my intention with this blog. I did say this was going to be a process. I didn't say it was going to be painless.



Lighten up. Trying to be funny is hard work. And this stuff is always a sure thing.

Back to sitting on my pity-pot...

It's been rough in my little corner of the universe, members of the dream-squad. Without going too much into detail, I did a face-first into a smoldering lava pit. And always having to do with fucking...



I've been trying to get back on my feet for the better part of a year. Dealt with the emotional upheaval of a failed marriage. And a foray into being a small-business owner that kicked the shit out of me financially and emotionally. Yes, I chased the be-your-own-boss fantasy just as one of the worst recessions in history whacked us.

Textbook case of PTSD...

You know the feeling?

I'm sure you do.

And so, just for a little while, until I recharge my optimism batteries, I will have to put my energies into this job and myself. I have managed to squeeze a few script pages out of my wounded psyche and they are standing by ready to be posted.

First things first...

Easy does it...

One day at a time...