Caterwauling

When I got home/sobered up this morning, somewhere around 5 a.m., I drafted two good (I thought) posts about things I was feeling.

I said I was in the “L” word. No, not THAT word. Rather, Lunacy.

“So it’s gonna be forever
Or it’s gonna go down in flames
You can tell me when it’s over
If the high was worth the pain.”

— Taylor Swift, “Blank Space”

I’ve decided my next guy, I’m going to torture the shit out of. That’s what they all want.

Love them and give them everything you’ve got and listen to their every word and live out their every fantasy, and that’s nice and all.

Treat them so bad they wish they’d never been born, and you have them for life.

I expect a ring out of the next one if I play it that way. Mark my words.

“My Church offers no absolutes
She tells me, ‘Worship in the bedroom.’
The only heaven I’ll be sent to
Is when I’m alone with you.”

— Hozier, “Take Me to Church”

Admittedly I was psychologically healthier when I went to church regularly. Now I don’t go at all and I can tell my soul is a mess and things don’t go as well as they did.

But Sunday morning religious experiences don’t always have to happen outside of the house. Just sayin’.