Used To Be

No matter how happy I am, and I am seriously good and happy (not good and plenty) inside and out (more in, I mean, just look at the world out there), it is still not like it used to be (and even that is not like it used to be, but it was a more shared time so it was a more ... ummmm, shared. I've relly been such a dufus the last couple of decades, maybe longer. Trying to fit in. Trying to be human. Trying to heal. Trying to remember a time before I started sleepwriting, when life was still alive. More alive, like it used to be. Wow, memories are long ago now.

Today was a usual day. Organized my office, accomplished some stuff, had fun doing it. Making more connections, getting more praise and appreciation, that feels good. Headed back here and made dinner, yummy soup again. I've had some sort of soup for the past four nights. Canned, but a mixture of five or six different canned soups and some cheeses and spices and a different yummy every night and not spending much money. Yummy, wise economically, patience, all feeling yummy good. Watching Chance now. Sick show, and I mean sick. Just what the doctor ordered for distraction in this cold cruel world. Like when I used to read Stephen King, but with weirdly logical twists. Stretching mentally, churning emotionally, physically satisfied, feeling alive. Fun.

I still have more fun than anyone I know, but fun is more fun when it's shared.

Narf :)