Of the three paths I mentioned earlier in the day, by later in the day it became apparent which one was chosen for me.
It's not the one I wanted.
Not the one I was hoping for. Matter of fact I'm suspecting it's the usual bullshit but
- Andrea Boccelli still makes me cry, and so I won't go listening for him anymore. I knew there was a fucking reason I never listened to him.
- I can't think anymore and don't want drawings to come back. I just need to be paid. After all, that's all there is.
- It has been nice to write to someone... but I hate revealing too much which is what happens when I write. Can't be helped. So I guess I'll be blogging more often, letting the wind snatch my voices and carry them away.
- I haven't felt beholden to someone, to create something or to stay on track, in a while. And I do, now, still. So I will. I keep my word.
But Bigbear seems to think Poppy had a better day, though earlier the Professor had called with all sorts of dire ideas about what's really happening. I found myself retreating.
I'd been up all night IMing Fabulously, but the end result is that I'm tired during the day. Nothing more.
I was thinking about love today... about what I'd written a year ago about loving freely. About not giving if you can't afford to, or if it's going to cost you, but otherwise give with no strings attached. I was thinking about the man who gave me money out of his own pocket, and a Valentine's day card because he said everyone should have one, and about the glass angels he gave me that still sit on my desk. I wonder how he's doing.
Earlier I'd had the idea, in honor of that man, to give a valentine simply because everyone should get one... but now I don't feel like it. It will cost me, I think. Everything comes with strings attached. There's a catch to everything, and nothing is ever free.
I was told today that I should draw what I write... but I can't draw free form. I can illustrate an idea. And this was the idea I had today, on the train coming home.
It's not anatomically correct I know, cuz I just plucked it out of my head with no reference. And while I have an artist's soul I've an illustrator's hand and that means we can't draw without reference.
Anyway. A picture's worth a thousand words, right? So I don't have to say anymore. And anyway I'm being very melodramatic, probably cuz I'm over tired.
But it's my blog. I can do what I want.
Cat has a reoccurence of his UTI, and now a blockage. I was hoping he would beat it on his own. I hate taking him to the vet, nor can I afford to. But no animal should suffer. And so tomorrow I have to try to get him there, to the vet he hates and who hates him. It means money I don't have and will have to borrow from UN. It means missing a movie with my Sun and the Fat Lady and her beautiful girls... my freinds. It means missing some work from the bullshit job I have. But I hate seeing Cat suffer, hate hearing him cry. Hate my apartment smelling like piss...
I am SOOOOO fucking tired....