I feel generally down. Stretched thin like so much plastic wrap pulled across left overs. I want to do more and find myself overwhelmed with the tasks before me. I fear even trying for the next challenge because it has tasked me so many times in the past. Why keep running head on into failure?

At times like this I yearn for the simple. I want nothing more than a job which pays enough to pay my mortgage and keep the utilities on. More time to write, draw, read and play. A life closer to family but with the closeness of friends both old and new. But it can’t happen that way.

I want not to be an ogre. A knuckle dragging freak.
I want to be graceful and small. I want to be slight and airy. I want to be beautiful and wanted.

So I fill my life as much as I can. I make close friends easy and hold them as I can. I create as often as possible. I play games I am good at to pass the time and feel like a winner. I play sports that push my aged body to the brink so I can feel the closeness of a team. I drive hundreds of miles to be with people I love and feel awkward among them.

When I feel this way I am reminded I am put in this situation by a god who knows what I can handle.
I haven’t accomplished much.