Highs and Lows

Mutter and moan for me if you will. I have much higher things on my agenda. Yeah, I'm feelin' the emptiness of this house, of my life, of this whole damned charade I insist on acting out. Can't everyone who walks past my lit up windows in this perpetual night see right through THAT facade? I thought as much, but these days I'm beginning to doubt my own judgment, 'cause all the highs I'm chasing down just keep pullin' me low - aren't friends supposed to be life rafts in this ocean of pointless jungle book behaviors?

I am struck once again by the ugliness in this so called 'beauty' of nature. It's dead DECEMBER, for Heaven's sake! Stop lying through your dentures and get with the program showing on the Discovery channel! It's carefully edited to show ONLY the beautiful parts. Never mind that we miss out on that thing called reality. It is clearly over rated.

I feel like such a loser. Here I am, Christmas break, sittin' home alone, typin' on my computer, my webcam my only company. Say hi to the quick capture! I've found myself pacing in a series of vicious circles, and they only snatch at me and turn into bottomless holes. Oh, the futility of this cycle. Can't I just fall down and get it over with? Why taunt myself with looking for the high points of life when I know there's two valleys to answer for every mountain?

But I will keep looking. That's what I DO. I let my 'indomitable' spirit take charge, firmly believing that happiness is directly at hand, and all I have to do is curl my tapered fingers around it, conveniently forgetting that my skin is too sweaty to hold anything in place for long. The whole thing is truly that trite ol' roller coaster, and my body language is showin' every one that pleases to see just where my car is on the tracks. (And I thought I was an actress.) So mutter and moan at me if you will, 'cause I still have higher things penned in my Lisa Frank agenda - pickin' up that supposed high, for one, anticipating (dreading) the actual low.