Friday, December 29, 2017

Bullshit fatigue

I'm tired of the bullshit; everyone is. I am draining all around me because it's "what bullshit is it this time?" If it's not a leg boil then it's PTSD. If it's not that then it's my failing once again to fix things that got broken—which triggers anxiety and PTSD. I'm a leech sucking joy with my bullshit. 

And just when you think one turd is done and dusted there's yet more bullshit.

I would hate to be in my life; to deal with my bullshit. You have joy, things are going well and then it's "what bullshit is it this time?"

Fucking hell. Just fucking hell.

I took myself away to give respite. I rode in the rain without battery. It was gruelling. A chest pounder to go up the slightest of slopes in the lowest of gears. I didn't have to walk it at any point but I came close. So it was an unexpected bonus; extra exercise to take some of the smell away. 

I think it helped. Now I just have to shut the fuck up, not inflict bullshit and basically give people a break from the bullshit. 

Bullshit; it never ends. Unless you're a divine being and you divert a water course through the bullshit all that happens is just more bullshit. 

Here's wishing I was Hercules; in addition to the most def powers there's that natty lion skin and club.

No comments:

Post a Comment

No comments needed, really.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.