Baptisms For The Dead.

I've been remembering the oddest stuff lately. Is it cause of the end of the year? The last few months? The last few seconds? I don't know but these strong, random moments will jump right into the front of my mind. I won't go into what they are -- most of them make me feel sad or defeated or suddenly angry. I wonder if it means I'm not dealing with some issues. Like I've dumped a lot of toxic waste deep in my brain -- and now the big, violent yellow containers are leaking these memories at me. This year has - for the most part - been complete shit. I'll be glad to be shut of it. So many choices were wrong and so many things went awry. Or maybe it's not that the choices were wrong so much as I just let myself be too passive and didn't make any choices this year. Ha. This whole entry reeks of dancing around what and who I actually want to write about. Coward. I don't want to bring any of that into the New Year. I'm such a selfish and cowardly person and I've been that way for a long time -- this isn't some self hating post, so hold your comments -- I just feel like -- man, fuck it, I'm almost 27 -- I shouldn't walk with this much fear in my mind -- too scared to leap -- to make stands -- to get the occasional bloody paw -- to pursue...it. I can afford to sit back and let other people decide what's going to become of me. So many little memories, little moments...and yet I can't remember exactly why I'm in Orlando. It all seems....ha....it all seems like a lot of blather...that stuff is bothering me but that's not quite it....cause deep down I know what's kinda bothering me right now and I can't just fucking say it out loud and I certainly can't write it....it's like doing that will make it real (like actually calling my migraines, migraines, makes them more official, like, something I get: I get migraines. No. I get these terrible headaches where light hurts my eyes and my stomach feels awful. Not migraines.) I know what's bothering me - but to think about it, speak it out loud, write it down - makes it more real. I'm such a good secret-keeper...you might not believe that but there's plenty of stuff I haven't told any of you fuckers. When you ask me about this later, I'll smile and make a joke and divert your attention, and I won't tell you anything. Or I'll tell you some shapeless, little lie. Cause if you knew the truth - hell, one of you is bound to be able to give some sort of good advice. But I can't do that. Or some part of me doesn't want that. Long term - deal with this fear. Short term - deal with this other, immediate stuff that's bugging me. I need some good, orderly direction for 2006. A path. A mission. A plan. Some shape to pour myself into. A cult? Snake handling? Eh. These are probably thoughts for a more private journal but fuck it, this is where they ended up, such as they are. And now it's time to hit 'publish post'.