Returning The Serve

Hello again my dear friend,

I have had a hard time writing. Things are a bit blocked-up or clogged in my brain. Lately, I’ve been feeling the pinch of urgency and the rapid need for progress. I’m making steps, just in my own way and time; that’s got everyone a bit nervous that I might somehow find this proxy living situation to be permanent. That I may want for stagnation, and make no progress advancing my goals. I endeavor to avoid this doom, but I remind myself that I face it, which can drive down my mood. AND that last sentence incorporated “doom” followed by its anagram. Thanks, I’ll be here all week.

Your words this time around I found particularly inspiring. Driven with the cause of desire. Propagated and externalized with the insistence of a plea. I’m humbled by your concern, which is far more then I feel I deserve. I sense that my life’s pendulum antics have given rise to a common feeling; we both possess the ability to experience it. What we do from here, at the pint of recognition, is the key. Either I can start doing battle with this thing, or I can supplicate and let it own me. I’ve been fighting hard against the desire to cave-in and surrender. It’s harder when I truly detest myself and wouldn’t mind it if I was dead.

It’s a road rife with peril: but it’s the one I’m bound to in this life. I’m not a strong-enough person to pull myself free of the calamity… I soldier on with well-dipping hopes regardless.

I will take to heart and hold on to the words and suggestions you have given me. I especially appreciate the Church of Billy Joel. I am The Stranger.

What is important is that you care, and it is your intention to see nothing but benefit come of this exchange. I wholeheartedly agree. I can see no better use for a friendship that to stimulate and encourage the growth of life, peace, prosperity from said arrangement. This seems to be your objective as well as mine, which is a find-and-dandy thing to have in common. Since we pursue goals, our struggle with no doubt be festooned with plagues and peril, but it’s too good to not fight for.

I find myself at a loss to continue, only because I have no direction for which to take the discourse. My struggles will continue much as they have for weeks, until I am strong enough to have and keep a job, and provide. I am a ways off from that objective, mostly because my mental health has to be rebuilt from shambles. But I’m still here. Still fighting.

If you have a question that you’d like to have answered, feel free to inquire. I am an open book. I’ve recently become friends with a new person with the same name as my ex wife. Nice? She’s kind and listens. Seems interested in casual sex as friends but I’m terribly unsure if this is a good idea. I yearn for something that feels good, but at the same time, recognize my state as fragile. Thankfully, none of this is a secret to her. Being aware of the problem helps to make with the intelligent decisions.

Well. It’s morning and I am drinking my coffee in my humble tent-like abode. I have a busy end of the week coming up here. Good. Busy means no time for unwanted creepy thoughts to get back in. I plod on. One little footstep in front of the other to success.

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