I'm living my life for a moment
That never ever arrives
There's nothing I can say or do
To make my dreams come true
And nothing you can do or say
Will make this pain go away
So I say hiding's good if I could
Just lie here and things would catch on fire
Nothing left of me or anything else
And nothing left for us to try to tell ourselves
I can't be, I cant ever be
Without you, don't you see?
I'm not me, not really me
Without you next to me
Life goes on, mow the lawn
Grass this green, you'll never see
And I can't smile or
Do much of anything for you at all
Makes me wonder what it's all here for
What the hell are we all here for?
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Journal entry for May 30, 2010 (Grass this green, you'll never see)
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.