I’ve been staring at the pictures, the paintings, the old Christmas cards that I’ve yet to take down. I’ve taken note of at least several cobwebs that I’m sure I’ll never get around to eliminating. I could probably watch any number of recorded, streaming, or dvd type material. Insomnia, the annoying gnat that I keep trying to  swipe away but to no avail.

Lack of connection. That’s on my mind. Lack of human interaction. Or perhaps, lack of the Realness which has been so hard to find. The masks everyone wears, the pretenses, the facades – right, right. The world is a stage and aren’t we all just playing our part? Some are better thespians than others, I suppose.

I’m rambling. I know. It’s the exhaustion eating at my physical desire to sleep but my brain refusing to follow suit. Like a bratty little f**king toddler, thrashing and pitching a fit – “LISTEN To ME!!! I’m NOT Tired!” But no lullabies or story reading for me. Just the walls. The walls, the quiet and my contemplation of the loneliness settling in, nuzzling it’s cold wet snout up against the bare skin of what is Me. Goosebumps and a chill in my soul. The emptiness, thick and muddy as usual, mucking up my insides.

And I know that I am alone but not alone. I know that somewhere, maybe next door or two countries over or both, someone is staring at their own walls. Possibly counting cracks, convincing themselves that tomorrow… TOMORROW! they will conquer this bullshit. It’s all just a frame of mind!

Meanwhile, I’ve started a blog. Is it a reminder? Is it an attempt at connection? Is it just a self-serving platform to see my own thoughts staring back at me from the vast social media soaked universe of the Internet?

Or maybe… I’m just tired of staring at the walls. Maybe you are, too.