By and bye

Melancholy anarchist music plays on the stereo much too loudly. The words from earlier are stuck in my head like a bad pop song that threatens brain cancer every time you hear the chorus.

"It seems like under all your rage, there's a lot of sadness."

Maybe that's true. Maybe there is. I don't know if I've ever really dealt with the death of my father. I know I don't forgive him for never meeting his granddaughter, who is the best child on Earth.

I miss my daughter like mad when she isn't here.

I don't live up to my expectations at work.

I stress about everything.

I'm acting in ways I don't always like.

I dealt with a betrayal at work that angered me perhaps more than it should have. Sure, as it was pointed out, it was bound to happen. Doesn't negate the fact that I don't like it.

I'm sick.

I'm tired.

I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

The only writing I do these days is here.

So, the black dog runs at night, and I've got no recourse but to possibly agree that yes, underneath this rage there is probably a lot of sadness. (And this music ain't helping one stinkin' bit.)

I don't really drink. I don't do drugs (unless you count the super rare pain killer which takes an act of God to get me to take). My vices are well-known and not at all constructive. I write to get the misery out.

I have a lot to be thankful and happy about, and I am. I've got a fantastic life despite the bitterness. When my daughter kisses me, every bad thing fades away. But I'm realistic, too. But I've always been better at anger than sadness, and anger is more fun to read and write about. I don't by into the whole depression scene.

Happy Friday, all. A lot of my friends are taking off for the holidays. I've done the isolation bit for so long I don't know much else. This Thanksgiving ain't gonna be different. Never liked the holiday much anyway. I give my thanks for the things I'm truly thankful for every day. I don't need a dead dumb bird to bring out feelings of gratitude. I'll see my daughter for part of the day. For the rest, I'll say a silent apology to the Native Americans who have suffered at the imposed "generosity" of the white man and do my best to stay away from the fucking television.