Bent Words

Bent Words

January 08, 2020

Catharsis is...

Allotted one day a week working from home where not much work needs to be attended to. 45 minute treadmill walk (because I don't run) and a long, hot, uninterrupted, luxurious shower finalized by a mixture of coconut oil and brown sugar to leave one soft and smelling good enough to eat.


Vacuumed carpeting, crumbs devoid of kitchen floor, dishes ALL stowed away, counters cleared of clutter.

Boyce Avenue on shuffle in the back ground, half a can of watered down beer (no judgement zone), a blinking cursor on the screen and a shazz ton of glorious white space to be filled. Let it out, yo. Free your mind of all the bullshit just rising up inside you like a virulent river ready to pull you under. Take a mid-life crisis, a heavy mind, a hard heart, a significant loss, a misunderstanding, an argument, an unforgiving illness and make it your bitch.

No, life's not fair but once in a while it doesn't hurt to be pissed off about that. It doesn't feel good to hurt but it does feel good to unleash that burden for an hour. And if you need someone to give it to; give it me. I will gladly take it and wrap it around my heart because, well, I know what it means to have that in someone.

Shed the tears. Scream the words. Slash the madness. Let it out. Fall over drunk. Be heard and be loved. It looks messy and sounds toddleresque but that's okay. It's not pretty (like my puffy face, for example). But damn does it feel good afterwards!

Our definitions of what life should be (or of what life is) change over time. It's not an easy adjustment and I'm not sure why I thought it would be but here for you is my struggle. My life that was lived with no regrets suddenly now has a few but I am not defined by my mistakes. I am just doing the best that I can and dealing with it as well as I know how. Sometimes I deal with it okay and sometimes I just suck balls and wonder how I maneuvered a motorcycle let alone a difficult day at work.

And speaking of balls, I have a few of them in the air right now and feel 1000 times better getting a few things off my chest. If you don't like it, well, sorry but in the end that's okay because what the fuck are you going to do? Spank me?

Only if I'm lucky.

Written at 5:44 p.m.