Brilliant, Genius, or Whut?

So here I sit. After falling asleep in the recliner earlier in the evening in the quiet time when the kids were going to sleep, I'm awakened by the TV blaring at 6AM. She likes it loud. Eventually, TA woke and lowered it, but the waking happened and the sun will rise soon and you guessed it... compromise. I decide to put the headphones on, turn on some youtube on the computer, and pretend there's not loud TV in the next room. They, in a rare moment of self-indulgence (these days, at least), I come here to indulge my writing therapy (oh where, oh where has the creativity gone... I do not spend much time here, though I do spend more of my writing time in relatively weak and maybe wimpy self-analysis and therapy (maybe whining and complaining, from your perspective, but it's processing and balancing and happy resolution for me) these days, though as anyone who knows me can plainly see {but who does, really}, very much on the surface... tic tic tic tic tic tic tic oh? (sidebars have so many clues and links, of links, how can we refuse?)... there's no tic toc on the electric clock, but still... the stranger with the melodies sings softly to himself in the middle of the night, writing in his sleep, alone again... naturally?... for the record, it's mostly all here and still growing, even if too slowly to notice... wow, this is a long parenthetic aside, aye?) somehow completed some time before in the dirt, drama, and details. Repeated here fr the fun of it, and the desperate longing for sharing, caring, understanding, acceptance, appreciation, and at least a little liking, if not sheer outright unconditional devotion. It satisfies the need to share, sometimes only just barely, sometimes almost completely.

So... what'll it be, what's your label for me?

Narf :)