not crying, just leaking

[fictional]

so the constant tear flow from my eyes could really stop now, yes, thank you.
my head hurts from the inside.
twas a rough night yesterday, for a whole variety of reasons.
lack of sleep, intense conversation, no barriers. without defenses.
i feel broken, and bruised. and still burnt out.
when will i ever learn not to ask the questions, when i can't deal with, and already pretty much know the answers?

Comments

Spackle for the eyes...

[guinness-duck.livejournal.com]

We always ask the question we don't want the answers for. It seems so stupid, but really, we all do it. Because there's that part of us that refuses to believe what we know until we've heard it. Whether it's some search for absolute truth, or just a mental fuck up we've inhereted as a species I have no clue. I can't count the number of times I've done the same thing, each time telling myself I'll never do it again. I always do. So you are soooo not alone.

As for the sadness, the darkness, the leakage (okay, that doesn't sound right, but bear with me here...) I know those are just fleeting things. How do I know this you ask? Well it's simple. Everytime I've hung out with you I can see that magically glow no matter how sad you are. Even the most wonderful fall upon dark times, but the darkness never lasts, it can't, and more importantly your friends won't let it. We'll get out big hammers and beat the darkness in to pieces, and then vaccum those pieces in to a bag, and then take those pieces, roll 'em up and smoke 'em.