I must be somewhere else running my mouth. Sorry if I'm not an integrated journaler. I have correspondences and things that I invest my hard sweated brain activity in, which I don't have time or compulsion to recap for this venue. Catch it on a re-run sometime.
Perhaps I'll have a bit of downtime when I've worn out my other audience. That usually happens after a few of my lengthy, overly personal letters that I've written to people who really were only requesting the time of day.
I can say this: "Hope is a dangerous drug in the mind of a depressed person." A little bit will get you high. Too much and you'll touch the sun and get burned then come crashing down never to fly again.
Sleep is still my most favorite pastime, though I'm not remembering much of what I dream lately. Tonight's another night. I'm putting in my request now. Please, oh, please, oh, please! Sharon, my guru, my guide--send me a sweet dream. Give my restless mind some peace. Or at least a direction to travel where it might be found.
In Jesus name, Amen.
COME ON!
(please?)
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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.