“Without An Outlet, EVERYTHING Gets All Stored-Up Inside. You Can’t Let That Happen. A Container Can Only Hold So Much.” –BRADLEY (during a brunch conversation teehehe)

BRADLEY Is Said To Be Rather Dashing. He Only Wishes He Knew Where They Were Looking. It’d Be Most Helpful, I Assure You. 🙂

“An Optimist Thinks This Is The Best Of All Worlds…”

“…A Pessimist Fears The Same May Be True.“

—DOUG LARSON

-(((1926–Present)))-

-(((WRITER)))-

-(((EDUCATOR)))-

-(((COLUMNIST)))-

-(((JOURNALIST)))-

Well, Again, Here I Am. But Do I Bring Anything New To The Table???

The Likely Answer Is NO.

Nothing New Has Happened.

Nothing New Ever Happens That’s Honestly Worth Mentioning.

Just Wide Awake At This Ungodly Hour.

One Would Think I’d Be Used To It By Now.

Sadly…

(...Or Not So Sadly...)

…I’m Not Used To It.

Never Have Been.

Never Will Be.

I Just Wanted To Apologize, My Peeps.

Apologize For My Recent Behavior.

I May Be A Dweller, Yes…

…But That Doesn’t Mean I Have To Take It Out Here.

Out In The Open, As I Have.

A Love Life…

(...Or Lack Of One...)

…Should Always Be Handled In A Much More Private Manner.

I Haven’t Done As Such.

I’ve Made My Issues Public.

But I’m A Writer.

Writers Write.

I So Express Myself Better In This Way.

Always Have.

When It Comes To Talking, I Generally Stay Quiet.

Generally.

I Fumble My Words, Otherwise.

At Least This Way I Have More Control.

Or, At Least, I Feel I Do.

… …

I’ve Talked Recently Of Wanting.

Of Needing.

Things I Must Have.

Things I Wish I Had.

Things I Know I’ll Never Ever Never Ever Ever Possess.

And What Good Has Come From Any Of It?

Not A Goddamn Bit, That’s What.

I Just Feel Like Me.

Feeling More Isolated.

Feeling More Alone.

Feeling More Hopeless.

Feeling More Helpless.

I Just Don’t Know, My Peeps.

I Don’t Know What To Do.

I Don’t Know What To Say.

I Don’t Know What To Write.

It’s Not Like There’s A Lack Of Material.

Oh, Heavens No.

I Could Write And Write, Seemingly Forever, If I So Chose.

But I Don’t.

And So…

…I Don’t.

I Suppose I’m Just Hopping With Anticipation.

I Want To Know What’s Wrong With Me.

I Want To Really REALLY Know.

The Coming MRI Seems To Be My Best Bet For Finding Any Answers.

The Problem I’m Having Is…

“What Do I Do If They Don’t Find What They’re Looking For?“

Do I Just Carry On…

…Happy The Test Says I’m Healthy?

To ME…

…That Would Seem Like A Failure.

Like A Waste Of Time, Effort, Money, Resources, Etc Etc.

I’m Not Saying I Want Them To Find Something.

I’m Saying I Hope It Tells Them What They Want To Know.

Because If It Doesn’t, I’m Totally Up-Shit-Creek.

I’m Tired.

I’m So Very Tired.

I Wish I Could Sleep.

Anticipation Is Amazingly Wonderful, Sometimes.

Other Times, It’s Just A Big Ole Bitch.

And I Still Have Two More Days To Wait.

Two More Days Of Anticipation.

Two More Days Of Deeply Seeded Want.

I Must Have This Test.

I Sincerely NEED This Test.

I Suppose I’m Just Scared.

That’s The Best Answer I Can Come Up With, At The Moment.

There’s Nothing Wrong With Being Scared…

…It Just Shouldn’t Be Allowed To Interfere With Day-T0-Day Existence.

It’s Too Powerful.

Fear.

But, What Am I Afraid Of?

I Wish I Knew.

Any Thoughts, My Peeps?

Perhaps I’m Just Scared They Really Wont Find What They’re Looking For?

?       ?       ?

I Suppose I’m Just Getting Tired Of Tests.

I’ve Had Plenty.

Undoubtedly…

…I’ll Have Plenty More With Time.

So…

…Here I Am.

Well…

…Here I Am AGAIN.

Do I Bring Anything New To The Table?

No.

Do I Further The Discussion?

No.

So What Do I Do?

I Sit Here.

I Write.

While Others Are Sleeping…

…Here I Am.

While Others Are Working…

…Here I Am.

While Others Are Out Having Fun…

…Here I Am.

And What Good Has Come From It?

Not A Goddamn Bit, That’s What.

This Is More Therapy Than Anything Else.

Writing Quiets My Mind.

It Allows Me To Center My Thoughts.

Even Though They May Come-Out As A Jumbled Mess…

…That’s Sincerely Not The Intention.

Surely Not.

Maybe I Just Need Sleep.

Trust Me, My Peeps…

…I Would If I Could.

I Surely Would.

But I Can’t.

So I’m Not.

Period.

“Two Things Only, A Man Cannot Hide…”

“…That He Is Drunk, And That He Is In Love.”

—ANTIPHANES

-{{c.408 B.C. – c.334 B.C.}}-

-{{{WRITER}}}-

-{{{HUMORIST)}}-