Day Two

I am getting a late start for my writing therapy.  All day long I found other things that needed to be done; calls to wish my sister a happy birthday, a long overdue conversation with my old best friend, a trip to Goodwill to donate some clothes, a shine for the car, whatever, just to fill in some of the time of the day so I wouldn't think about the unthinkable - the negative thoughts about the present, about the future.  Stay positive, that is my goal, never cede any ground to the doubts, to the voice that wants to say it can't be done, whatever it is that needs to be done.

So late at the keyboard, dropping words onto the screen like some primitive video game, dropping loudly to the bottom, screaming wildly at me as they fall away from any logical thought or ideas.  I can only keep the flow going enough to shut out everything else, but for how long?

I am getting sleepy; its after 10pm and I have clocked some miles with soccer practice and beating the traffic to cross town.  I will try again tomorrow.  While this hurt, it was nothing compared to the soreness of the pushups that I barely was able to do 8 of.  I guess the brain muscle gets sore too and cries out when I try to use it again without giving enough rest.

Peace.