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I'm not sure I've been the last week or so but I certainly haven't been myself. I've had some external stressors and some internal ones as well. I can't get write . When I get something put down I read it and then delete it. I'm stuck. There's plenty I could tell you but I can't quite let it out in graceful stories. People are driving me crazy. I have some telling me what I should do. The others are telling me what I can't do. What's good for them. What should be good for me. I'm tired of unsolicited advice. Tonight I want to smoke. I want to sit with a Winston burning in the ashtray next to the keyboard. I want to squint my left eye as I hold the cigarette in my lips as I pound out the next sentence. I want to feel the burn of the inhale and watch the exhale shadow on the wall to my left. I want to smooth all the ashes to one side of the ashtray and light another. I want to go outside and scream. I want to stand in the middle of the country and let it all out. I want to put all this bullshit behind me. I want to stop living in fear. I want to stop being responsible for longer than the time I'm asleep. And even then I can't. I want to stop being in charge all the time. I want to stop cleaning up messes.