Pieces of ME are falling apart

Pieces of ME are falling apart.

I keep putting ME back, piece by piece.

Pieces keep falling apart and someone, either me or someone else, keeps putting them back.

What happens on the day they/I can no longer can make it all right? The pieces just no longer fit.

Will I be able to handle it?

Will the physical pain or heartache be something that will make me crazy, or worse; simply pissed off all the time?

I don’t want to find out. I don’t want to know—really.

I know I just asked; but it is a question I want left unanswered.

Pieces of me

Maybe I should get rid of every material item and computer document in my life and start all over.

Get a “real” job. One that pays real money.

I worry that my days would be filled up with nonsense and my pockets would be filled with pennies.

My life has not been a normal life, why try to be normal now, is it even possible to be normal now. What is normal?

My abnormal life is what made it possible not to have to work at all the past five years.

I am wondering how long can I pull this off, this not having to work thing? How long do I want to pull it off?  Will it even be my choice in the very near future?

Maybe I should stop writing, go through all my things and get rid of everything that I am not doing at this time. All my dreams that are saved in little tiny pieces need to be tossed. Clean up all the loose edges and start anew.

Start with reality, my reality. Don’t hold onto all these little pieces of hopes and possibilities. I simply cannot do all the things I have thought of doing. I am burying myself piece by piece. I simply cannot move any longer. I cannot breath. I cannot accomplish anything with all this stuff being held over my head.

Cluttering my life with ‘maybes’ and ‘somedays’ and ‘I can do this’ or ‘I can go there’ along with ‘I can start this business’.

No, I cannot. There are not enough hours in the day even if I did attempt it. I could get it all done if I had a lot of people to organize that worked for me, but then it would not be me doing it.

It is a syndrome, that’s what it is. It is an I-can-do-everything-syndrome. The first step in recovering from it is to eliminate it (meaning stuff) from my surroundings.

I will continue this on tomorrow’s post.

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