zenexistence

I just finished 'Into the Great Wide Open' for the second time.
The novel stirs so many emotions in me it's not even funny. Loneliness, sadness, longing, bittersweet memories -- a roller coaster, but in a painfully wonderful way.

How come friends far away seem so much more dear than the ones that I have daily access to?
I guess it's because of that very ability to see them on a daily basis that makes it so, I believe.

I've been drinking a fair amount lately, which is odd. I drink beer quite often, hell, I'm good at it.
But lately I've been doing it because it allows me to open up emotionally and I've been writing a lot, so it's served a functional purpose, as opposed to just getting lit.
I can never drink when I'm upset, it seems like such as weak way to deal with things. A crutch that far too many of my friends rely upon.
But, for some reason, when I want to examine something painful, it makes it easier to do so -- it strips me of those emotional walls that are so carefully constructed when I'm sober.

I wonder, quite often, if I'm going to end up alone.

I really do.

Blah, okay, I am Mr Morose this evening.

Tune in tomorrow, when typical Mr Sarcastically Irreverent will return to delight his many, err, few, err, two fans.

-Scotty