tightly wound.

i haven't been so bottled up since...well...since I don't know how long.

at any rate, where is my master?

(i almost called you today- almost wrote. but opted not to after i saw it there, that familiar smear that smacks of cheap connect. i almost said the 'miss' and almost cleared the cache, but realized that i'm no longer inclined to move backwards.)

at the risk of sounding like my loathsome former self, i've been struggling a bit. a small, small bit, but struggling nonetheless. i got dust in my eyes and i can't get it out, so to speak. the honeymoon is over and i'm finding/remembering that i'm actual. i'm strong, but actual and breakable as well- to be honest, this reminder is not a welcome one.

i've fallen victim to that sickness (again), the mucky but crackling torture, inside and outside, waking and sleeping. there isa cure, but i don't know it.

so.

what can i do but bottle up and wait for the wonderful blast?