I know it has been a while since I wrote on this thing. Too much crap has gone in my life to think much about writing. These changes must be made if I'm going to become the resemblance of man I used to be, I've forgotten who I am and what I want. In some retrospects, I suppose it shouldn't matter what is going on around me and I should focus on the words, but I've been at a loss for inspiration because I don't have the freedom to express myself. I'm a strange man it seems. I've been reminded of my faults. They are numerous and I know I must endeavour to work on them if I want a healthy relationship. blah blah blah...

Yesterday I had to take the car into the shop, a $450 repair coming up. The car is drivable, but it has issues that need attention. I had to do some creative accounting for Christmas this year. I'm all out of energy and my humor has been wittled away by the strangeness of life. I dare not write a poem, who the hell knows what would come out. Probably some illogical dark sentiments about how things suck. I could call it, "Life sucks and here is why." Whine! At least I know I'm whining. In all of this I miss writing as much as I'm complaining I shouldn't do it. It is in my words where I find the freedom to express myself. Over the past few months my relationship has caused me to doubt anything I say in fear of retribution. Unless it is at work, my carefree voice has been clipped, like the wings of a bird and has been grounded. I dare not say anything in case someone might take offense. Egads man, do you hear what I'm saying? What kind of life is this? And here I sit on Christmas Eve and write this drivel and wonder how I got myself in this situation and hope like hell I can get out of it.

me