Let Me Up, I've Had Enough

Let Me Up, I've Had Enough

I wish I could find the words to say how I feel. Today was a good day, or it should have been. I saw De-lovely and it was a fantastic film. I loved Kevin Kline and Ashley Judd, not to mention all the beautiful performances by the pop stars that I love, including Elvis Costello and the missus.

I even had my "Nights In White Chocolate" cone from Cold Stone Creamery at long last. It was delicious if slightly overpriced. OK, beaucoup overpriced.

Why then do I feel like crying?

Why do my insides feel like they are in knots?

I wish to god I knew. I wish I had someone to talk too, but you know what...there's no one. Not a damn soul to vent my frustrations too.

I can't write. I haven't really been able to write the way I like for about a month. I know most of you have no idea what that's been doing to me, but it's not fun. That was my escape. The only escape I have from this life that's more miserable than you can imagine.

Can any of you imagine what it's like to be 30 years old and still be beholden to your parents, with no way of escape. And it has nothing to do with my relationship with my parents, I love them dearly and we have a good relationship, better than most people I think. But I have nothing of my own.

My car, though in my name was paid for by my parents, because I was out of work, when Greta the Grand Am, chose to do her dying act. She's not even a good car, she's a 1989 freaking ugly Chevy Beretta. I've never in all 30 years owned a car that was less than 6 years old! I'll never own a new car. And I'll never hear the end of what they've gone through so I can have that damn piece of poo.

I wish the money fairy would visit me, to lighten that load, but there's no chance of that.

My self esteem is in the toilet if you haven't already guessed. My face looks like the Exxon Valdeez ran aground on it and puberty has returned. The weight is up. I'm sick of hearing about carbs. Seriously if Atkins weren't dead, I'd hire someone to pluck him off.

I want to run away, but I can't afford to run anywhere. I can't even afford to go to the damn movies. I'm sick of everything. I'm sick of people not caring. I'm sick of people saying my problems are trivial. These people aren't living my life. They don't understand what is in my head.

The only thing I have right now that's keeping me from the deep end and going over it..MUSIC.

Yeah. I've got the Moody Blues, who wouldn't know how to write a happy song if the Happy Fairy slapped em upside the head with the happy stick!

I've got the snarky Elvis Costello..bless him. Snark is good when the world is looking dim!

Oh and I've got Bernie Barlow. I will say this one more time. Go buy this lady's CD. It's great and it makes me crack a smile a few times during the day, and I need all the smiles I can get.

I'm going to take myself off now. I'm sure I'll be fine, I probably needed to get all of this out in the open once and for all.