soeffinhappy

I wish I could write while I walked to and from work. My mind goes on these amazing tangents while my body is moving and puts my thoughts together so perfectly. I bet my mom paced a lot while I was in the womb. A lot of what happens to you before you're born affects your life after the cord is cut. I'm also convinced that I'm a nightowl because I was born late at night. Is there anything out there that suggests that humans are nocturnal? I think lots of them are.
Sometimes I feel like the person I was is a small army surrounded by hordes of invaders. The invaders swarm in and are pushed back again and again, each time taking a larger and larger toll of lives. Though the army fights bravely, there seems to be no end to the grim faced, darkly clad assailants that scream their war cries in the night. There will be water if God wills it, and I try to tell my self to keep this in mind but sometimes it's not as comforting as it once was. What if God doesn't will it? What if the last well is dry? What kind of man will I be once I pull my gaze away from those dark, dry depths? Thoughts like these make me shiver.

My aching muscles, my burning eyes, and my cloudy mind have all ganged up on the adrenaline that was coursing through my veins an hour ago. They politely asked him to leave but were met with taunts, threats and disrespect, and so they had no choice but to remove him forcibly. Now that he is gone, SG is much less fun to surf and my bed looks like a shockingly enjoyable alternative. Maybe sleep will make me feel a little more myself.