I've been lonely. Broken. Homeless. Tired. Scared. Depressed. Angry. Quiet. I've been in therapy for years. I've been to AA, NA, Al-Anon. I've been killed (figuratively). I've killed (literally). She's broken me, I've broken her. I fight. I struggle. I hurt. I write.
entry 200. Although I don't think this particular number "means" anything, it's a good place to stop and give thanks.
I don't know how many read this...I don't know who goes through my musings, who picks up some of my thoughts that I've put down...I started this years ago and didn't quite know what it was meant to be. It was meant at first to be an avenue, a voice to quietly make fun of the world. It's instead turned into something that randomly in my days someone will say, "hey man...I read your stuff"
When I hear something like that...two things occur...one, I get shy and pretend it's no big deal...and second, I can't help but want to hug them. I can't help but be thankful. My feelings have turned into something that people enjoy reading. Even saying that is odd. People like my stuff. HA! They like my feelings? geez. anyways...
I give you thanks readers.
The secret ones that don't comment...the anonymous ones that write me...the people that send me emails with art and pictures in it...the ones that have bookmarked me...the ones that write art to me.
I have more stuff to put on here...and I will. Slowly and in time...thank you, thank you, thank you.
Keep breathing...
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