Sunday’s Song

This week was full of fights.
Not the kind where you yell and stomp or even get to give the death stare, but mentally it was dukes up all week for Pickle. I laid awake at night feeling like something was coming. Something to fight? Something to do? Im not sure. It was just that feeling that something was on the horizon. Something needed my attention. That’s fine. It’s a fight worth fighting. But even at week’s end, when I had fought my way through all the bureaocratic bullshit, I had nothing to show for it. Just more waiting. For something else.

Aside from all of that, there are these lingering, non-fights in my life. The kind in which you don’t speak to somebody anymore, or vice versa, but there’s really no reason why.

Maybe there was a disagreement. Maybe a misunderstanding and it just snowballed into this … thing? I don’t even know what it is so how can I know what to call it. Hell, I don’t even really understand what happened or why. I honestly don’t even care.

There used to be a time when I would welcome a good knock down, drag out fight. Maybe if I had done something more deserving of one, I still would. But, really I think Im just worn down from fighting , my own body and diseases that I just don’t see the point. I don’t see the point in wasting time and leaving things unsaid. I mean, if you have something to say, just say it.     A conversation might get me somewhere more productive, there could be progress, but this passive aggressive, swoop in, drop some shit and take off bullshit is for the birds…and cowards. But maybe that’s what some folks get off on.

But I’m done shadow boxing.
I’m just tired.

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