Well, here I am, again. Five AM already, you say? My perfectionist side says it’s 4:45 — I’ve always been more of a casual rounder. I promised myself I would go to bed earlier tonight. That’s a lie, but I still meant to anyways. Good enough, right? I did try! Believe me, I did: A good 20 minutes after reading ‘Jack Bean’. He’s got me reading before bed, among other things. Humph, a lot of good it does me. Schitzer (my cat) is sound on the back of my loafer-of-a-chair, only looking up @ the sprinkling of tobacco against a Zig Zag. Midnite (my other cat), is also quite sound, though on a towel left behind on the couch cushion after yet another wonderful shower. Sometimes I forget how good they are (both my cats & the shower).

Did you catch that tobacco bit? Ya, I figured you might of. I’ve started again, but I must say I’m proud of the month I lasted! Quite the amazement to me considering I’ve smoked more than my share for over 6 years. I’ll conquer this habit. I’ve conquered the rest: Just the puff of a joint, & a drink (or 4) on rare occasion. I don’t know why I’ve thrown out my bad habits really. Well, the most visible anyways. The ones I let people know about. What’s the point? I mean, besides making me feel like shit — Really? What’s the fucking point? God knows I already feel like shit 24/6. That’s right, 24/6. Lets be a perfectionist again, for a moment.. 24/6.5. Ya, that sounds about right. I get about 12 hours a week of feeling good — Healthy, even. Maybe even happy! I don’t write about this stuff because I don’t think most people care. Most? I don’t think the people I wish cared even care. That’s all that matters. Sure, my dad holds his head up high & feels good that he is financially & physically stABLE enough to support his daughter through such a treacherous time. And I guess he should be proud. He should be. I know I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. But, hah! Is that really a good thing?

Sticking something in here along the lines of ‘My life has taken a turn for the better/worst’ would be very comforting. Yep, even ‘worst’, but I can’t say that. I can’t say that my life has turned, or shifted, or taken off in anyway what so ever in the past 3 years. Three years. That’s a long time to be stagnate. That’s a long time to be lonely & an even longer time to be sad. Or am I angry? I can never figure that out.

There is more, believe it or not:

I think about what life is a lot. What it means to me. What I want it to mean to me. In the most general sense, should life be happiness? “The road to happiness.” Where the hell is that @? Where is my paved path? Who stole my goddamn bricks & grout, hrmm? Or whom did I foolishly pawn it to? And why can’t I recall? Were they taken bit by bit or in whole? Do you wonder? I’d like to be that happy go lucky person I once was. That innocent child: Virgin of all — Naive to an indescribable extent. What happened? Why did this cautious persona rape me of my very nature? Who slashed my soul? What’s more important is how do I fix it? Is it gone forever? God, I hope not!

Direction is what I need. Support & Love & Reconciliation. And…

***~! U N D E R S T A N D I N G !~***
I know this! I’ve always known this. I’ve never admitted it though. I’m a very selfish person. I’ve known that for a long time, too. Ever since I learnt about astrology. But I’m not asking for a million fucking dollars here, or an enchanted forest, which is unattainable, or anything so impossible. Just a little concern & a little compassion. A little time & a little shove. Just a little friendship. Just a little you, whoever you are.

Zee Happiness