You ever get that feeling that your insides are going to burst out of sheer frustration? Or that overwhelming desire to strangle the nest person who tells you to “hang in there; things are going to be fine” How about the home made martyrs? You know, the ones that say “oh what I have going on is nothing compared to what you hare going through”

Will they please come down from the cross?

And who was it that came up with “that what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger?” Because I want to have his or her address and show exactly how strong I have gotten this last year!

Then again, I also spent part of the day wondering if maybe I have just lost all grip on reality and have really gone of the deep end. What I am trying to say is that I do believe every person has breaking point. And with enough effort from society, world events, force major and just plain bad luck, we can actually reach that breaking point. It is a very interesting mental state to arrive in when you objectively can tell you are at your wit’s end. Literally. You are standing at a crossroad inside your brain: left is insanity and right is sanity but all of a sudden you notice yourself more leaning towards the left….

Sometimes, I think people forget that our own defense weakens when being beaten up time after time after time. Things that couldn’t hurt us at all 1 year ago, all of a sudden can feel like that mortal dagger being stabbed in your heart. That tiny Achilles heel is now pretty much big red bull’s-eye. But yet, we are all supposed to “pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and do it all over again.” Time after time.

I forget who once said that every action is followed by a reaction. It may not be a physical reaction as much as a psychological reaction. Personally, I find myself becoming more and more of a recluse. I want to stay inside my apartment, inside my own world. At least there I can pretend all is well and I am safe from harm. Inside my apartment I don’t have to worry about bills, friends walking out, money running out, no food, surgery or any of that stuff. I can just paint and end up painting the prettiest picture in the world. All inside my head.

In my world, I don’t have to explain why I am not okay with my best friend walking out on me over Christmas, only to come back 6 weeks later pretending all is well. In my world I am working on restoring houses with Garry. In my world I can pretend to be okay with the fact that I haven’t slept with anyone in over 5 months and probably can’t for another 2. In my world it’s okay to be a sexual being without being made to feel that that is a sign of low self esteem. In my world I can still miss my dad. In my world good guys do finish first. IN my world my best friend says that he is sorry he fucked things up. In my world I still believe in falling in love. In my world there are butterflies in my stomach, bright smiles when the phone rings and nervous laughter when we talk. In my world I have somebody to come home too. In my world I have at least 1 rock to hold n to. In my world.

Then again, in my world it is okay to get high. IN my world I am okay with there being no light at the end of the tunnel (bite me) IN my world it is okay to just sit down and cry because all of this just sucks ass and I am so damn tired of having to keep a stiff upper lip or keeping it together. In my world, it is okay to be tired. In my world I like being alone and not seeing anyone for weeks.

In my world there is at least one person who doesn’t belittle me and lets me cry and be pissed off. In my world people who say “into each life some rain must fall” get prosecuted. In my world it is understood that “taking a deep breath” will cause you hyperventilate! In my world dark clouds are not allowed to have a silver lining and it is generally agreed upon that we should ban that homecoming stretch; you can kick that horse in the ass instead of having to get right back on it and Que Sera BLAH!

But that is just in my world.

So tomorrow morning, I will wake up. I will open the curtains, look outside and BITTERLY hum:

Desmond has a barrow in the marketplace

Molly is the singer in a band.

Desmond says to Molly – girl I like your face!

And Molly says this as she takes him by the hand:

Obladi Oblada, life goes on bra

Lala how the life goes on.

Obladi Oblada, life goes on bra

Lala how the life goes on.

OH SHUT UP!

My name is Sven