Fuck mornings

Although I don’t really say much, the good couple of people who know me best (and I interact with the most lately) know exactly what I’m going through.

It could use a little more articulation, but I don’t really have the mental space to string together words as an attempt to solemnly capture the daily musings parked at the back of my mind.

The subconscious is surely a powerful thing.  It keeps me up all night, restless all day.  Mornings are worse than the evenings when I can’t seem to catch sleep.  And the nights when sleep no longer eludes me, there is always that bitch of a moment that comes at 3 in the morning.

And as much as my potty mouth is blatantly ruining this blog as being a PG-13 page, I do still solemnly pray that peace comes to me sooner than later.  I have a promise to move forward and all these moments prevent me from getting there.

3

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