The beacon is burning

It's another Tuesday. I just blew most of my night to reach a goal that was stripped from me by someone who doesn't deserve to be able to even think about me. But there ya go, my night was fairly ruined by someone who shouldn't be allowed to mingle with even the surface dwellers... yet, they win.

I'm feeling extremely selfish and selfless in the same breath. I'm finding emotions churning, thoughts brewing, pain singing.

The beacon of hope seems to be burnt out, until I realize I am the one responsible for keeping it lit... I have the matches and fuel for it in my damn hands, as I watch it spin amidst the shadows.

I am a fool... a tool... a sad little puppet missing it's master while singing joy for the masters absence.

I can only do that which is in my power... and here it is. Helplessly screaming at the universe in digital text format. Not even in PDF.

Ah well. Tomorrow will be a whole new slate... a whole new drop cloth for my painting disaster called life. At least tomorrow I get to walk. I get to move my body, feel it work towards a longer life, a healthier life... the pessimist in me just thinks, "Hope I don't get hit by a car?!"

I'm sick with myself, my weakness, my strengths, my fear and loathing... my joy and happiness...

I sit here in front of a digital portrait of you. I paint my pain and fear on a canvas of 0's and 1's while you watch, read, and fade. I hate you, I love you, I need you, and you probably don't even exist.

I'm going to save this blog and post it. I'm going to get undressed and climb into bed. I'm going to don my mask of air beneath my warmth of blankets. I'm going to swim amidst the sounds that are above and beyond me. Because you're Good for Me. And you didn't even know it...

Good night... Sleep tight...
I hate you.
I love you.