It’s absolutely bucketing-down outside.
Cats and dogs.
It’s only 11pm, but I’m hitting the hay early tonight.
I didn’t go to bed last night.
I stayed awake the whole night.
Then kept working all day.
It’s not an unusual occurrence.
and organised and vacuumed and tidied.
I’m just a little proud of myself.
And it all means nothing.
I turn 44 in eight days.
with my genetic lineage,
exactly half way through my life.
And I honestly feel, that given the reality of human existence, it can be argued that I have put in more effort than most. To live. To REALLY live.
Against the tide of my poisonous family, and a weak society that attacks my kind:
The gentle, loving, creative and generous.
The one without guile or malice.
So if my next chapter in life fails.
It will be by final chapter.
I will try one last time
to stay alive.
Then I am leaving.
Because living in this much pain,
with a truly shattered heart
and only dogs to love,
It is just existing.
if when it is done,
I am 45,
– I would have done my best.
And I would have earn the solace of the longest sleep.