There really just isn't much...

There really just isn't much to say. Or maybe there's just too much.

I haven't had the time to just sit down and write something. I haven't been sketching. I've been just working and thinking and sleeping and just Running Rampant. Wasn't that was I just finished telling myself I wasn't going to do for a while?

I'm a little caught up in things today. I am thinking about luck. All the blind stupid luck. And how stupid, stupid, stupid douche-bags of people seem to have the blind stupid luck. And well, that just blows. Sometimes you wonder with luck, how does work fit in? How does karma fit in? How does a good heart fit in? I think about what I can and cannot do. The things that I totally believe I'm capable of and those I fear experiencing the most. The love that those things take. The hurt that could potentially be felt. The loss in failure versus the risk in avoidance. I think about being right on top of people and having absolutely nothing to say to them. How we float in and out of each others' days, saying the old familiars. Speaking, conversing, but not really communicating anything at all. It frustrates me. And I think about the people in my life that I can't get enough of. I try to focus on these shimmering "Awesomes" in my life. I hate and love how time seems to slip so quickly with them. I think how more they mean to me every day. I process the tears. I think about the laughter. It's all so fucked up. To put it bluntly.

I roll through these thoughts lately - like a smooth worn worry stone in the pocket of my favorite jacket. Rubbing the details right in or out of its shape.

So much of this is fueled by the 3 beers and all the hormone... It probably makes no sense at all.