04-24-2012, 09:07 PM
I am sitting here directly after work listening to Clapton croon about the power past lovers can have over you. A cold beer on the table beside my recliner makes me take a break from typing- it tastes great as it washes through me, but can't seem to break this spell that is ahold of me tonight. More than missing some girl, this is about me more than it is anyone else.
Women have hurt me -individuals- but sometimes the skies are cloudy and threatening not because you are missing a particular fish in the proverbial seas, but more because it is hard to justify to yourself why you are still alone.
But its not cool to whine. Unless of course you are emo in which case it is not even close.
My point when I began this diatribe was that "that ole feelin'" that we call the blues is a big part of what makes me Mark. It nags at my pant leg when I walk through the mall and rolls me over in the bed at night to make me stare at the ceiling. It is very probably the most influential emotion.
Sometimes Old Love gets to me . . . does it ever get to you?
Women have hurt me -individuals- but sometimes the skies are cloudy and threatening not because you are missing a particular fish in the proverbial seas, but more because it is hard to justify to yourself why you are still alone.
But its not cool to whine. Unless of course you are emo in which case it is not even close.
My point when I began this diatribe was that "that ole feelin'" that we call the blues is a big part of what makes me Mark. It nags at my pant leg when I walk through the mall and rolls me over in the bed at night to make me stare at the ceiling. It is very probably the most influential emotion.
Sometimes Old Love gets to me . . . does it ever get to you?
Wildcard is awesome.