I’ve always found writing to be very therapeutic. Unfortunately in these modern times, everything you put online is not anonymous and can come back and bite you in the ass. I haven’t written in so long because I want this blog to be real but I couldn’t make it real by just posting ‘safe’ stuff. Mainly because life has become very real over the past year and there isn’t much safe fluff to put in. At least not enough that won’t make me feel like a fake, blogging just for the sake of blogging.
I’ve always known I wasn’t the luckiest person around. Luck is, of course, subjective but everyone knows a lucky someone or two. The ones who always seem to win prizes at a lucky draw or who manages to get a really lucky break whether in love, career or life in general. I don’t think I’ve ever won anything at events. I’ve entered numerous online contests but have always come up empty. I won a CD once, about 15 years ago but that’s about it.
I use the word luck but I guess I sometimes mean fate. One just seems more ominous than the other. Anyway, I digress. So I’ve always known I wasn’t the luckiest person around but the events that have happened in my life over the past year or so feels like the biggest slap in the face even for someone who doesn’t expect much. No, not a slap. More like the biggest punch in the gut followed by an upper cut to the chin. And then a body slam to the hard concrete floor below.
I know I need to turn this around but a person can only take so much before frantically calling for a time out. I need to regroup and refocus because I sure as hell don’t want to continue living like this. I just can’t do it now.
Time out, goddamnit. Time Out.