War Without End

I had gone back and forth on whether or not to continue this, and in all fairness I heard from a lot of people who wanted me to continue.  I planned on continuing the blog, but turning it into a full-time attack on just about everything ... including myself.  And then I decided to end it.  No more posts.  No more anything.  I was going to start a new one that would be hidden from prying eyes, naming names, spilling guts.

And then that didn't seem good, either. 

But I woke up, and things changed.

I had a wonderful discussion (two actually) last night via e-mail and phone.  I was not in the best of moods, but these people helped out.  This led to a dream about something I had been contemplating for some time, but wasn't sure of how it would pan out.  I'm still not sure, but I don't really care.  In for a penny, in for a pound. 

I woke up from this rather pleasant dream in a load of pain and in a bad mood.  I'm not sure why the bad mood came.  It may have had something to do with the dream and the logistics.  Either way, it was not a good way to start the day. 

Which brings us here.

This will continue.  This will be an outlet of rage.  A forum for these little problems that come along in life that can't be solved with a gun.  It's a good form of therapy, and a lot safer than kicking someone in the teeth (but a lot less fun).  Of course, there are always willing bodies ready to feed off the rage.  A mutual discourse in violence is an interesting way to spend the evening. 

I'm tempted to take a pill a call it a day.  My Mondays through Fridays have been less than hopeful, and while I'm in the same boat as a lot of other people, I have been struggling to keep the mask on.  A little more slips away each day, and that's okay.  I'm liking it.  I am at peace with the idea, though sometimes I am a bit enraged by it. 

A war without end.  A pathetic grasp at keeping a normal life. 

The days are getting shorter.  Like my patience.  The time has come.  The center of the universe, where the Black Sun burns bright, beckons.  Where is the flesh?