The Daft, Demented, and Delirious

I often wonder why happiness seems so difficult to attain. I wonder if it is stamped into my DNA to be unhappy, desperately grouchy, and jaded. I see happiness from a child's perspective and think it should just come naturally. happiness should be simple and easy. For me it seems happiness has been an endless game of cat and mouse since puberty. Happiness should not be work, it should not be another job or task. It should be wonderful, free, and abundant. I am a comedian by nature. I love to laugh and joke and thrive off of making other people laugh. I don't think people realize that the heart, soul, and mind of a comedian can be a very dark and lonely place. Though making others laugh and smile comes easily to me I can't seem to make myself laugh and smile just as easy. Because I am such a clown it is difficult for others to understand that I suffer from extreme bouts of depression and apathy. Intelligent people are often silent sufferers of a multitude of mental illne...

Home is where you've gone when everything has gone wrong. Square peg, round hole unfit, faithless, restless soul. Home is where one longs to flee, but home is not always a safe place to be. Weary legs and weary heart, never allowed an ample, beaming start. out of breath and out of time listening for the clock's last chime. Time's wound down to an alarming end It was never as good as we'd pretend. Wings broken before they flew broken dreams rarely do come true. Buried long before you've died, held back before you've tried. Home is where you'll want to go, though there may not be anyone there you know. Love is strange and want is deep when there's nobody allowed in the vault you keep. Lonely are the ones who weep silently with their heart's asleep. Wretched, ragged, little sins of all the ones who weren't let in. No place to rest your strange, dispirit head you hide from all of it instead. It's sad when you've got ...

I've been thinking a lot lately. Dangerous I know. Conjuring up smoke clouds and the the olfactory hallucination inspired scent of burning, old, greasy gears violently grinding against one other. (that is what I imagine my "thinking" brain to smell like: burning. My unthinking brain smells mostly of old books that have been in a dank library basement fermenting and molding over. God how I love that smell) Every good, average, down home, feminine, girl knows one's mind as well as her underarms and lady parts should be clean, free of hair and wreak of blooming lilacs or exotic fruits. At all times a girl should be "fresh" and somehow evoke involuntary "fresh" thoughts of breezy cape cod shore lines specked with green sea grass and vibrantly potpourried fields full of wild flowers. I'm pretty sure that despite my best efforts at being average and feminine I am very far from it. The only thing "Fresh" about me is my mouth. When people l...

I've always admired your lyrics but the time has come for me to write my own song I am cumbrous with words and my silence feels wrong. silence isn't always golden sometimes it's red and burning I can't seem to distance myself from the flames but I'm learning; I'm learning. The important lessons are often learned painful and slow you don't love with your heart your mind is the one housing your soul. Eyes like windows why are your shades drawn tight? living eyes wide open though you fail to have sight. I have felt the cold barrel of your gun on my lips you never meant to pull the trigger but I bit the bullet when your fingers slipped. I'm standing right here like I've been all along You may not like the lyrics but this is my song.

if you're trying to talk to the old me, she doesn't live here anymore. She's gone. Don't bother to leave a message. I don't think she'll be back. Days like today I have these moments of almost pure clarity or as I like to think a glimpse of my real, deeper self. The me that has gotten buried by emotional landslides, storms, and far too many natural disasters of the emotional spectrum. I'm in a reflective water like mood where I sort of come to an understanding of who I really am and who I have become. I am flooded with deep thoughts that come and go like streams and waves. I am liquid. I sit alone sipping my morning coffee, looking out into the silent, sunny, morning. Protected by my house from the outside world. I sit and look at life though my bay windows. The swaying trees are beautiful and the grass is green. It's spring again and the once lifeless, gray, and cold steel sky is blue again. Life is in full bloom. The air is Chilly but it doesn't h...