Puddle

So, today was kind of an ass day. I tried to make it good by telling myself it was kind of cool, like being one of House's team, hunting for things I probably shouldn't have been hunting for, even though it might help someone. But the cold loomed outside, and I just couldn't get warm. I came home and spent the rest of my waking hours on the couch, not doing anything constructive. I wasn't going to stay up... I didn't really want to start watching ER, because I knew I'd get into it. And I did. And then I heard that song. That old familiar song, the slow sad cords and the words and the words... and that old darkness just came creeping back in like thick black coffee; good, warm, bittersweet... comforting, but I know it's old news, old times. I know I should be moving past. Into what?

A while back, I said a few things about becoming what I didn't want to, losing my identity and becoming a +1. I still feel it. But I think I'm becoming my own +1. Like, there's something I keep bringing with me. No, it's not the dark. I think it's the fear of failure. Fear of flying. I keep thinking about the idea of changing careers, jumping between trains. Moving forward and sideways at once, getting mangled. Like learning everything all over again. Walking and talking and how to make breakfast. Sometimes it's a necessary evil but not yet. It might be some day. But not yet. I've been thinking about the big changes, mostly for money reasons... I've been thinking...

I haven't been sleeping. It's time for bed.
Good night.