Mr. Cowman

Days have been rough on me lately. And I hardly get any sleep...when I do, it's restless. I don't eat much either....but I don't have much of an appetite lately anyway. I keep procrastinating everything til the very absolute last minute, and therefore not able to do my best in them. And I'm really exhausted lately...for what seems, no reason. Just so tired.. but cant sleep, and don't have time to either. Can't get up to do anything, and can't stay still enough to get rest.

Lot's of things seem unreal to me. It is hard to explain. But I can lay there thinking, and everything literally becomes a dream. Moving here, leaving my friends.. family...Evan not with me...Emily growing up so fast. Of course many, many more underlying things that I wouldn't say here, or to anyone. Just everything is unreal to me. It's like I'm in a dream, and I'm going to wake up out of a coma one of these days and not remember anything but this dream. Just so unreal to me... that I have a life, a love, a family, a name, a person.

I'm trying to forget the past.. and I'm doing......okay with that. But I'm not doing okay with not worrying so much about the future, or more importantly, the present. Someone said to me once...."well..The thing is EVERYONE gets a time when he/she feel lonely, left off, depressed, stressed, hurt, helpless... but people are different...some of them just go through it...and next day they forget about it" Well.. I would forget, but each new day brings new stresses, new problems to cope with.

Now, why can’t I just be happy? I love those days when I can just be so happy I could fly. Just so content with myself and my life, that I can do everything I love, I can be patient, I can help, I can play a game with my little sister….With seemingly only one thing I cant do; stop smiling, stop loving to death, everything.

I like those days. They come every so often. More so in the past couple months than ever before in my life. I want that everyday. But for some reason…the “choosing to be happy” thing isn’t working for me. Am I doing it wrong? I’ve just got too many holes in me right now. I keep trying to plug them up, but the holes are as unique as snowflakes. Nothing will fit right except its original occupant, or the occupant it is meant for. So should I just give up on that? Okay, it solves nothing either way. I just need to get things out of me. I think. I don’t know it that’s the problem or not. But it’s part of it. I need to stop trying to keep too much in one bottle. Because there’s only one size and it’s going to inevitably break if it’s packed too tight. Every new unbroken bottle is just the same. Same size, same desire to break with too much pressure. One of these days, if I don’t do anything to help myself, I’m going to run out of new bottles altogether. So the real question is…What is it that gets me up every morning?

"a man destined to hang, can never drown, a man destined to drown, can never burn, a man destined to fry, can never, ever, ever die, in any other way than frying..."