Very Superstitious

I've always enjoyed music and lyrics.  I find most people just hear the beat, the groove.  Many don't pay attention to little details like the words set to those rhythms that move them.

To listen with out hearing...

I had an idea where I might be going with this but the truth is I can't bring things together into a bigger picture.  I can hear the music, I can hear the words... but I'm lost.  I'm numb and over-sensitized.

Very Superstitious.  Wash your face and hands. 

Rid me of the problem, do all that you can. 

Keep me in the daydream, Keep me going strong.

You don't want to save me, sad is my song.

When you believe in things that you don't understand, 

Then you Suffer.  

Superstitious ain't the Way.

This morning I cried.  Not really.  More to point, I sobbed.  Crying out to something I'm not sure I believe in asking for relief of the petty consistent bullshit my youngest son puts me through on a daily basis.
'Please.  Please.  I'm so fucking tired. I'm tired of the roller coaster.
Please.  Please.  I'm so fucking tired of being broken.

I want to breathe with out it hurting.  I want to laugh with out starting to cry.'


I dreamt about John the other night.  We were in bed.  I was laying with my back to him, pulled up close.  I remember I felt hot and pushed my leg out of the covers and pushed myself closer just to feel him.  I didn't want to wake up.

The constant sadness I feel just went a little deeper, sharper, lonelier.

I want to move on...

I resent not being ready.  I resent still missing, hurting over, loving someone that didn't deserve it.  I resent that he is everywhere and nowhere.

I'm not ready.  My sons aren't ready. WHEN will I be ready?  When will they be ready?  My oldest doesn't want me to date.  I can't picture it, but I want to.  Why the fuck would I want that?

Time.  Time and life are slipping away from me while I place one foot in front of the other in this oblivion.

I wish I could have moved away.  The memories are starting surface a bit more and it hurts.  Everything everywhere is saturated with John and he's a fucking asshole ghost, and I'm a ghost.

It's pathetic and it pisses me off and I am stuck in this maze.

I wish I could have moved away but I'm stuck.
I'll say it,
I'm stuck with two sons who need the consistency of what little I can provide them.  Their school, their 'sort of' friends.
I'm stuck financially.
I'm stuck. And I'm alone in it with two boys... one almost an adult.  Scary.

I dream of not being stuck.  And I'm scared everyday.  And I'm scared one day I won't be able to be strong enough for what little strength I have to make use of to get through the day and I'll make really poor decisions.

Okay.  It's that time.  Time to pull myself together and take care of taking one dull step in front of the other.
Fake it til it's true or I die.  All I need is a little mascara and lip gloss...