1:30 in the morning, alone, drinking a raspberry bloody mary (a fairly successful experience, might I add; someone else try it and let me know if I'm crazy), smoking resin, listening to my new Springsteen album. It's true, folks, it really is the little things.
Okay, the second sip wasn't quite as good. Not bad, just...odd. Raspberry and tomato.
Not that life's perfect, actually, it's pretty damn hard these days, if I could be permitted to piss and moan for just a second. My mother's crazy, intent on doing crazy things, and I find myself in the position of having to kind of be the grown-up for my mother, which isn't easy, and I honestly don't know if I'm doing that good of a job at it. Lost my job last week, maybe for being gay, but I'm not sure. Either way, that's a blow, and a setback, and it troubles me. And I guess I could say that April is historicly (sp?) hard for me. In a couple weeks, it will be the anniversary of a great tragedy, the loss of the woman I love. Present tense, four years later. April's hard for me, yeah. Honestly, I think this year has been harder than last year. I guess four years seems like it's starting to be a fuck of a long time, but at the same time, I'm not "over it," if such a place exists. I can't explain it. I don't really want to talk about that right now anyway. And another goddamn thing, my back's hurt for weeks now, and it's really starting to be a pain in the ass.
I does get better, once your palette gets used to it. Or maybe I'm just starting to get high; that could be. Not a very good objective judge.
Which is what I want to talk about, in a roundabout way. The importance of recognizing when to be nice to yourself. Peace, and blessed be.