Always Kris has this up today:
The higher you fly, the harder you crash when you hit the ground.
I've been thinking along those lines all day today. I even described it to a certain friend, like I was high on some super duper illegal drug and had no where to go but down all day Sunday. And boy did I go down.
I've never personally taken any sort of drug. But I've heard that ones like, coke, can get you so high the crash is the worst thing in the world.
Maybe it's like this.
O, Canada was not the drug.
I think the drug was my feeling that I was on top of it all. You know, because I was such a badass dumping people with scripts, found a new job, have an assistant who I don't know what to do with, and hello--boys want me at the bar.
Yeah, I wasn't full of myself, but yeah I was full of myself.
And there was still an emptiness. Something lacking.
And that hole, that hole was which I fell in Sunday.
And the fall was a hard ass trip. And I decided to take others down with me in hopes of feeling better about myself. But being mean to Trombone only made it worse. And participating with Bruiser did me nothing. At the end I was still crying the river.
Yes, I know I did nothing wrong, but it doesn't feel like that. Maybe its because I was all alone on Thanksgiving. Maybe its because a clock is ticking - really loud, and I'm not listening to it. Unh unh. Maybe its just the pre-birthday funk.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.