So I have been gone for a while. Can’t say I was too busy not to write because I’d be totally lying. Writing is what I do; it is my life, the only way I can keep my insanity at bay. Truth is, I was rebuilding myself. A wrecking ball recently came into my life and flattened every structure I took years to erect. The demolition crew even made sure to burn the place down afterwards, leaving only a stench of gasoline and the residue of cement dust in their wake. Though like a fucking armadillo; I dug myself deep into the ground and waited out the wildfire to pass; sticking out my middle finger in one last show of revolt.
Last couple of months have been tough, I mean painstakingly tough. I am a tough nut to crack but this time I think life won….well, yet again. I am currently in limbo where I will slowly contemplate myself and redefine my terms with life to claim what is rightfully owed to me – my mind. I have also been working on my book; which apparently for some reason is stuck at the page right before number ten. Maybe it’s the author’s block – or whatever they call it – but hey, I am not an author! at least not a best-selling one… yet.
So as the process of rehabilitation sets in once again, I am reminded of how much similarity my life shares with the four seasons – always fluctuating between good weather and bad with possibilities of severe extremes. Well, guess maybe I am truly bipolar as the doctor says. Who knows?