Some days make you want to hide from everyone and everything; Some days the world plays hide for you to go seek. Some days clarity is presented to you on a platter while other days even the Dalai Lama doesn’t make any sense.
Some days it’s the weather you blame for crying but other days, when pollen kicks your ass, you blame the same for not trying.
Some days a whisper is loud, clear, and touching. Some days you don’t hear yourself scream.
I scream to make it make me feel better. When I scream I use bad language so I can come off sane but angry.
That’s a lie. I never scream. I shoot lethal words at people who listen to me. Then I keep score and compare how much I hurt them this time. It’s a perverse pleasure but pleasure nonetheless.
Problems and solutions come at the same time, I noticed; depending on the sky being blue or gray, we (I) choose either. But I suck at picking between blue and gray. I like them both…for different reasons. Reasons I try to convince myself are signs of a brilliant mind at work.
Some days I am able to convince myself who I am and who I am meant to be. I then go on and have a nice breakfast and have a second cup of coffee. That would be most days, I guess. Except for Mondays. That day I reach for three. The third one to remind me how I’m supposed to hate Mondays for reminding me to hate Mondays. It never ends. And I’m not even sure I hate Mondays.
So…instead of ‘why’, I guess I ought to be asking myself:
Who…moved my cheese?