mmmmxliv

written out of frustration

there’s not enough time in
the day. the odds are so
terribly stacked against me.
nobody told me this was
going to be the case. in fact,
i lived my life for nearly 50
years before any of this would
be true. which isn’t true. the
odds were already stacked.
there never were enough
hours in the day. is this really
all i have to complain about?
of course not. infestations of
roaches are not so fun. try an
infestation of roaches for over
a year, with no way to do any
thing about it. homelessness
is no fun, either. so little fun
that i’d never take it over what
i have or have not at the moment.
let’s say you have a very specific
budget that doesn’t even cover
everything. and you don’t
have a line item for
unexpected expenses.
the beauty of the world, of my
environment (the one i place
myself into if i can do so, even
during the worst of times) is so
incredibly breathtakingly gorgeous.
this cannot be helped. i’ve got a
while to get at something here.
and i do. but why bother you
with such trivialities? i mean,
i can always continue, but
don’t encourage it. at least
that’s what my therapist
basically suggests of my
general approach. but
don’t mind me, i am
just beginning to warm
up. come to think of it,
my therapist often says
this about me, as well.
who’s to say, really,
what goes on in the
minds of therapists.