33 is coming down the barrel and it's increasingly clear to me that I am not one to change. My habits and lifestyle isolate me from what I want in life. I fully expect to be writing the very same entry at 43 with very little variation except the passing of a decade.

I can't seem to keep anyone interested for more than a day...I want only the simplest things in life. Touch, a hand to hold, a sympathetic ear, snuggliness, the occasional romp, time away from time...but it seems I'm always found wanting and I'm getting tired of trying.



A week, just one week...what I wouldn't give to hold someone's attention for even just one week...

Completely tangential to anything and everything that's happening to me at the moment but horses...I respect them immensely, beautiful and smart animals at least all the equines I've ever met. I don't care much for horse puckey but it just comes with the territory I guess.



Oh, my point...well, horses know who the boss is when I'm around them and Lord knows it ain't me. So I respect them like I would respect a bear crossing my lawn. I mind my own business and try not to startle them if I can help it.



For some reason Texas came to mind tonight and the time I came within a second of being barned twice by the same horse. Barning is a term that means a horse trying to unseat you by knocking you off the saddle preferably by smacking you into a barn or a tree limb for those who don't know.



Now some things that actually pertain to what's happening to me at the moment.



Work was quite busy early on and then petered off towards the end of my shift. I'm always mildly surprised about just how much I can get done in between fulfilling tickets. Oh and we got our bonus checks for the year, measly but at least it's there. Enough to pay for my cell phone bill or a few nights of inebriation.



I just came back from a lovely party and met some interesting people and had a chance to observe a few things I'd never seen in the flesh before. Whetted my appetite to see and hopefully experience more or the same and other permutations thereof in the future.

It's official, I'm bitter. All the holiday crap and happy couples spewing their treacly selves all over the internet has brought out the worst in me. I can't stand to look at yet another happy couple showing the world how lucky they are. Keep it to yourselves people some of us don't want to know just how miserable we are and you aren't helping.

I'm feeling incredibly brittle tonight and realizing once again just how egotistic I am, not in the sense of puffed-up arrogance or the like. Merely by the fact that I don't really see anyone else except through the lens of me.



32 years have passed and I have no real connections to anyone, anything or any place. I have friends but don't feel their friendship although I'm sure their positive regard for me is real. Friends that I call friends are very few and far between and everyone else is just a colored blur passing by on the highway of my life. I have family but the net that holds us together is the most gossamer of webs. A single puff of bated breath and it all dissolves away in the space of a heartbeat. We're spread so far apart and have so little contact with one another that I sometimes question whether I imagined one and all of them in a fit of loneliness. Lovers, lovers, lovers...there have been so few women who see me through the lens of desire that I can't even use all the fingers on one hand. The brief moments of ardor and lust that I get to indulge in almost make me feel alive and then all too soon it's done and I settle back into my fugue state.



I have no ambition, no dreams, no overriding goal in my life. One day piles on top of another in a continuous stream and every once in a while I look up and it's been a year or maybe two. Work fills my time and keeps me in books and movies. I occasionally go out into the world and get a little or even a lot of slow poison in my system, sometimes with companions, sometimes without and one night passes by in a soft alcoholic blur. You would think this would be an escape but my mind tends to focus on itself while intoxicated and one of these moods strikes me and before I know it another dull diatribe is thrown out into the void.



My life is in a glove and I don't believe I've left any fingerprints on anyone else's life threads. I wonder if there's any point to this at all.