(no subject)

Weird, weird, weird. Looking backwards, because I really cannot see ANYTHING in the future, any further than, "Drag your ass thru work, tonight, and the next night and on and on, until the next day off." I still wake with dread, each day - it's just to a new master, it seems.

And, as for on here? What happened? I used to really speak my mind, on here. Used to really let my hair down, and put it out there. Now? It's kinda hilarious, because my barest updates are just that - bare - who am I afraid of offending? Whose feelings am I guarding? Why pretend? It's not like anyone's left to read it, anyway. In a lot of ways, it's worse, now - because I seem to no longer value reverie. Have no time to dream, nor even care to. The ONE and ONLY thing that was EVER a sure thing with me - the ONE part of me to which I had no doubts, attached - my artwork, my words - has been dead for so long.

The world used to be alive with magic, and, now? It's just grey aches and poverty, and that ever-present metallic taste in my mouth.

What the hell WAS that, in the sky, last night?