Rob-world

I'm really  worried about my ability  to create a work of substance; fiction or non-fiction.  Fortunately, it appears my education remains intact, as is my capability for reasoning, and faith.  This includes my ability to edit, structure, and discern  crap from the good stuff. So much remains the same, or seems to be. And some  improvements  seem to have been made. Everything is slower, more deliberate.   Hopefully, this means I'll edit more, as I write.  I've forgotten how to walk; I've forgotten how  to type. I'm scared to try re-learning; it seems like such a massive/daunting task. But  necessary. DAMN IT.

I'm in danger of being a one-note Johnny, But here goes:  I think about suicide 24x7, 365 days a year. I'm just not happy, and  sooooo lonely.  I don't write anymore, for lot's of reasons.  I won't kill myself before Grendel and my Father  die.   I don't have many friends here.   I never have any money; in great part because of my iTunes addiction, but also because I never have any idea of how  much is in my account.   I don't need to be the "big spender from the East" but I'd like to be able to pay my own way.  It's just not right, that I don't.  And  treat, occasionally .

IF I hate  anything about my life post-bashing, it all ties into how passive I've let myself.  Before, I energetically happened to life. NOW: sadly, life happens to me. AND, I HATE IT.