... I come here.

I'm feeling empty- again- and I'm seeing that free space become filled with anger and fidgetyness and over all crank.

I will not, I must not give into this... darkness. Yea, I said it. I'm my old melodramatic self again. How can I not be? It's so hard to look at this world. to the see the injustices- large and small- and to still solider on.

Sometimes, I just don't want to be flexible. Sometimes, I want to be staunch and stoney and unpleasant for everyone to be around. Sometimes I DO want to get caught up in the drama and to just go off and emotionally vomit all over everyone.

However, I can't.

I am surrounded by drama queens and I really cannot afford to sit back and let all of my life get sucked into the vortex of UGH!. Someone has to be stronger than that, better than that, and I'm the only one I see standing.

So maybe I am martyring myself by shouldering this 'burden', this maturity, but I really don't think so. It doesn't fee that way, forced and tiring.

I know that life isn't always shiny. Sometimes, like now, I'm tired and slowing into something less than pink and sparkly and cherry blossomed. That's okay. It doesn't mean that I have to slip into Oscar the grouch, jump ship and join the asshole brigade that's swarming outside my heart.

I am a perfect little pippin. I am everything I need to be and I shant be bullied or coerced into being a monster. There is a wall at my place that needs to be baby pink, wrought iron furniture that needs to be assembled and apple-vanilla pies that need to be baked.

Life is good.
Sometimes I want to throttle it.
But I shant.