Masks

I really feel like someone out in the cosmos is trying to test me this week. To see how far they can bend me before I break.

Friday I got into a ridiculous argument with Daniel, and went home feeling like crap. I hardly slept at all that night, only to wake up knowing what I would have to face the next day.

Saturday I had to say goodbye to one of my best friends. My horse. I know to all you who are reading, that may seem silly, but I loved Mister with all my heart. I just couldn't afford to keep him. So I had to sell him. As soon as I got home from the barn, I collapsed into tears while in my closet looking for a pair of shoes. I still haven't been able to bring myself to cash the check.

Sunday I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened. It was all I could do to keep myself from crying. And it was another night of restless sleep.

Monday I got an email from Daniel, pretty much saying I'm a crappy person. That just made my day. But I kept telling myself it would be ok. I would be ok. And it was starting to work.

By Tuesday I was getting over it.

Then Wednesday evening I get a phone call, and it takes Daniel 30 minutes to tell me how much he cares about me BUT, apparently I'm not worth trying to make it work. So much for getting over it. And you know what? Right now I just feel so worn down, and so...driven into the ground, that I don't even care about trying to pretend it doesn't hurt. Because it does. A lot more than I had imagined it could.

Why can't people ever just say what they really mean? What they really feel? Why does it seem like it always takes me so long just to get to the bottom of it, to get the the real truth? Why do people have to wear masks? Masks of sympathy, masks of sorrow, masks of concern, masks of regret... Don't bother. Just fucking say it.

Wednesday night, I get another phone call. One of my best friends is in the hospital. He had a heart attack. And he's 26 years old. My stomach flew up into my throat as soon as I heard. And I can't even go visit him tomorrow because he's in ICU, and they have really limited visitation hours, and I have to go to stupid fucking Huntsville for a court date tomorrow. What kind of friend am I if I can't even go see my best friend in the hospital??

As soon as I came home I played the piano. For about an hour. It seems to be the only thing that calms me down, without distracting me from what's really going on. I just play what I'm feeling. And then I just cried. Because...this can't be happening...

Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to form
Crop circles in the carpet
Sinking feeling

Spin me round again
And rub my eyes,
This can't be happening
When busy streets a mess with people
Would stop to hold their heads - heavy

Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines
All those years
They were here first

Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before the takeover,
The sweeping insensitivity of this still life

Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines, oh, you won't catch me around here
Blood and tears (hearts)
They were here first

Whacha say,
That you only meant well?
Well of course you did
Whatcha say,
That its all for the best?
Because it is

Whatcha say?
That it's just what we need
You decided this
Whatcha say?
What did you say?

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
Speak no feeling no i don't believe you
You don't care a bit,
You don't care a bit

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
Speak no feeling no i don't believe you
You don't care a bit,
You don't care a bit

Oh no, you don't care a bit
Oh no, you don't care a bit
Oh no, you don't care a bit
You don't care a bit
You don't care a bit