I don't like to get personal on my blog, I don't really know why. Maybe it's because I don't want someone feeling sorry for me or thinking I'm complaining. Maybe it's because I can't stand whining and listening to others complain (hence why I have blocked updates from some of my Facebook friends). I feel a lot of guilt when I complain, after all what do I have to complain about? My home (there are people who don't even have a home), my job can be stressful (well, at least I have a job that pays well), I feel very lonely (yet I am surrounded by friends and family), I never have enough money (but I don't balance my check book and still pay all my bills on time). But, there are days when all I want to do is get on here and wallow in my misery, share my crappy day, cuss & fuss and be immature. There are some days that I wish I could just vent on here - about work, the kids, family, just life in general - but I don't and I won't. So, I guess as usual, I will type my post of ranting and raving and crying over my silly little problems - I will let everyone know how much my life stinks and I will never hit publish.
I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me.
Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.