Only Nightmares

there was this conversation today between two men that I thought quite humorous and funny in a sort of "duh" kind of way. I am still not sure why I changed my mind on actually sharing the details other than to say I just wasn't feeling it by the time I got to sitting down to do this this evening. Between the "mobe meds" and the room clutter and the "to do" list and such I didn't get online to spend anytime interacting with the masses of victims until well, almost about 3am. So you see, by that time I want a good drink "on" and some light background noise, preferably several types at once to be annoying enough to warrant the exhaustion from keeping up with them to take me away to nightmareland.

It's not that I can't have pleasant dreams. I just don't and usually find myself either doing more work in my sleep or fighting off the forces of evil and/or ignorance, or worse yet, burning at the stake for being too cool! I think if I put my mind to it I haven't had a really good fantasy or happy fuzzy bunny dream since I don't KNOW when. And I imagine tonight, your morning, will be no different for me. Sleep and I have been dancing this Waltz for some time now going on four decades. He runs and hides calling "Ollie Ollie All come free!" and I giggle and twitch and toss and turn and ache and have to pee and all other sorts of too much goings on to actually sit and do a drawing of a fuzzy bunny in my sleep. I have some deep seated anger and it showed its ugly head today and I validated it by thinking it was allowable because someone else's was more misplaced than my own. There! I said it...and now I am just prepared for the torrent of vile hate mongering reels of film my head will play while I sleep, if I am allowed a moment's peace from ails and wails.

Essentially it is a never ending story they say, and it is making me sick. It has its good parts and its bad parts and its good parts are when I come out alive. I have recurring dreamscapes and I know what they are telling me and I just don't get why they won't go away and leave me alone. It's not fair. When you decide what you will swallow and what you won't they should leave the rest alone but it seems there are the messages I see and don't give a shit about but some unseen force is hell bent on getting me to concede to. Tonight's viewing pleasure will be a rehashing about my recent holiday in the psyche ward from hell and the avalanche of responsibilities and happenings since that vacation. I want so badly to live and have some semblance of a functionally temperate life and am still merely just surviving. I see myself as a small speck in this world with the capability of nuclear fission. I even sign off in small case letters and such as if it is ingrained in me to see myself as a non capital type of person. I want a low profile but, like all other things, the minute I want it it is a guaran-damn-tee that it isn't going to be as I would hope. "Murphy's Law: Numero Uno" It means whatever mobe wants-someone else gets and whatever mobe doesn't want is heading her way.

I accomplished quite a bit today and felt good about it until the day unraveled. Now I have a task list to do to make up for the unraveling and the goals set to achieve some sort of nirvana if the fates let me. For now my immediate goals are to see if I can get one night a week on some sort of romantic comedy or dark cartoon at least when I sleep in order to maintain balance. Too much disdain makes for a bad girl. All disdain, as in my case, makes for a carbon copy of my mother and we all know how much us gals want to be just like her! I tell you guys I hate everyone equally and in a way I am correct. But it isn't the only facet of me, it is just the one I put forward when I know I don't have a rat's ass chance in hell of anything beyond that. Look at it this way, a pessimist is the person who thinks the sky is falling twenty four seven and spends their day preparing for that impending arrangement. When the sky doesn't fall it is a bonus and a time of celebration after a hard day's work. When it does we are more than prepared. An optimist walks around with their head up their ass, or yours, and thinks everything is roses and is all fuckered up all day when they find out it isn't so. "Say it ain't so, Sam...say it ain't so!" But a realist is one who knows the sky is going to fall, eventually, and is biding their time and making preparations so as to walk away to a safe vantage point and try to find the best seat to watch all the "pessy" and "opty" brats running around wailing and bawling at their logic. Right now I am half-way between pessimist and realist with the realist being the goal. It is hard and if the damn roof did cave in on me every second, I'd be at my goal by now but I just cannot trust it and feel it is my personal chore or task to warn everyone else to stand clear and hold the sky up like Atlas. I am getting old for my species and this shit on my shoulders is heavy and no one wants to grab an end or even hold the frigging door open for me to go into the lobby and sit a spell and I have no one to blame. And now, I am unraveling piece by piece trying to figure out where I went wrong and put it back together correctly. Arduous. Simply arduous.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.