Nonsense and sensitivity
Thoughts and feelings fight through fingers to make sense and no-one wins. Non-sense is all there is...
How can those that I love most drive me so crazy with constant verbal input yet make me feel so desperately alone at the same time? Why can't everyone that I love just love each other and be nice?
39 is scarier than 40 because now it's approaching I realise I have to fit a shitload of stuff into a year in order to do/achieve/taste/find it before middle age becomes official.
Completing a 1.5 hour exam in 20 mins with a distinction means nothing when the woman that dropped out halfway through already has a job in the business and the one that's still there but already failed the course has three wedding bookings.
How dare a school make my children feel bad that I haven't sent in a "voluntary contribution" for the annual week of arts activities? One of those days is sports day for fucks sake! Even worse, they've disallowed Babyboy going on the trip to the theme park due to misbehaviour yet they still want £50 per child. They'll get a stiff letter containing thirty notes when I have it and every day they mention it to my kids that money goes down by a fiver.
Me at college and me at home are so different I'm really scared that my mind has finally split into two.
I miss karate. Not the obligations but the feelings and the physicality.
The thrill of shopping for holiday clothes is marred when you search eBay for tops that fit your bust size and find them advertised as suitable for TV's and cross-dressers.
Upstairs, right now, is a man and a dog that I love. They are both snoring enough to wake the dead. I'm looking out the window for zombies.
My dog attention seeks by stealing things that she knows she shouldn't have. Laundry, pens, electrical items, tea-towels, anything she can pick up with her teeth beneath your nose she gets, even though her sad eyes tell you she knows she'll be told off for it.
The humans around me attention seek by having ailments. Every day there is something else hurting, aching or sore and I have to hear about all of them. Fuck knows why, I'm the least sympathetic person in the world. I hear ailment and think weakness, the alarms go off and mentally I sprint far away from the wounded before I'm tainted with the germs of neediness. I already know it's contagious cos every fucker round me has it.
Those three little words...
Leave. Me. Alone.
4 comments:
*hugs* and also *ears* if you need them (or more accurately eyes, for reading, if you need to unload.) x
Ebay. Punchbag. Now. x
Ppffffttt! 40 is middle-aged?? Twaddle! I'm 40 now, and I don't believe I'm middle-aged. Of course, I'll never know when it was the "middle ages" until I pop my clogs! :D
With you on the school demanding money and making you feel like a heel if you don't cough up. Son has a week-long overseas school trip scheduled for later this year, and I keep asking when we're going to be told just how much it is - I don't have hundreds stashed away for a school-trip day! I've already had to warn Son that there is a strong chance he won't be able to go... if the prices carry on increases at the rate they are now!
I know that feeling... middle age is a state of mind - right?! Don't fall for it... second childhood here we come!!!
Dxx
Post a Comment