Marred.

This has got to be the  l o n g e s t  I have spent on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Give or take a few memories that have haphazardly been erased by time, and we have a winner! *ding ding ding* Really isn't as pleasant as all that, but I'm trying desperately to diguise my trepiditions with bravado. Really. Trying.


The emotions will not be the first to be bottled up and corked, but they certainly hold the most pressure and are as resistant to dormancy as a child's volcano expiriment. (In fact, I have a suspicion that if it weren't for all of these bad memories, and their need to be buried deep within the bowels of my mind, I wouldn't have short-term memory problems.)

Days like this one are the reasons why God allowed for wine and the written word.

If it weren't for a good book and a tranquility in a glass, I would probably be in a wheelchair.

*If only certain other people in my life would realize how precious this time is in my life.*