You guys live for weekends but I just live for manic days when I can write without it all just being the big sad. When my adrenaline is pumping with the happiness my brain manufactured by accidentally sending too many chemicals down the line. A system cruising with possibilities, crushing the “I can’t and it never’s” out of existence.

I wish that nagging voice would go away though, reminding me that it’s all lies and an inevitable crash is lurking close by. Like the stock market collapse we’ll hit the bottom and slide, facedown in the dirt careening towards bases that we’ll never reach.

Whoo baby but we aren’t there yet; not now, we’re up and there’s not much we can’t do! Cram it all in, faster and faster before the feeling leaves and you’re left with naught. Come on Savino- write the thing buy the thing make us feel better because we don’t and we can’t and when will this nightmare end?! I thought these feelings were long gone, whispers of a younger sadder time.

But come on dear girl, you know they never left! You can’t trick us they’ve been here all along, you pushed them down as far as they could go but that graveyard in the back is teeming with life. Just look at it! All those things you thought were dead and buried are pulling themselves up and out of graves, pushing dirt aside with mud caked fingers and they know where you ARE. Just above the graveyard, on top of the hill sits the mansion of your mind where you reside most of the time. You keep slipping, slipping from there to here no matter how scary it is. This place was built when you were younger, YOU built it; a place for you to hide during the bad times, to keep you safe. Yet you let IT in somehow, the bad thing; it found this protected space. Now its here and it won’t leave, no matter how you curse and lock the doors. It can fit through keyholes, slipping in, slithering through the dark and you can do nothing to stop it. No sounds, just a whisper; a hot breath on your shoulder while you sleep. You are alone; and it gets you when you’re alone, a shiver up the back or goosebumps on skin.

Did you follow me or were you already here? You embody all the things I fear. Lord knows I fear so much.

Your shape is so familiar and that almost gives me comfort, but how the FUCK could I find comfort in that?? Just because it stayed when everyone else had left?? It hates me, delights in quiet torture but somehow, oh boy somehow, even that consistency brings comfort too. What hell is this? Life?? Am I to be stuck running circles in the attic of my mind for eternity? Always running and running but never getting anywhere… Always tired and worn out.

But I guess that’s just showbiz baby.

Come on get up, put on your face and fake a smile. Blow out the candle and close the door, knowing it doesn’t matter anyway. What goes in gets out, and what goes out gets in. But we have shit to do. Lock up and let’s go- we’ll be back later for sure.