just one ~
March 5, 2015 at 2:27 pm 14 comments
~
to calm the nerves
to quiet the mind
to dull the pain
but ~ ~ ~ at what price?
~
~
9pm – the view from my driveway – snow encrusted with ice and frosted with lamplight
~
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Entry filed under: dodoitsu, feelings, human nature, life, Personal, poetry, ponderings, thoughts, writing. Tags: darkness, depression, fears, frustration, future, loneliness, questions, Relationships, voices, worries.
1.
Cara | March 5, 2015 at 4:31 pm
Just one what?
2.
words4jp | March 5, 2015 at 4:33 pm
I was thinking ‘a drink’.
3.
Cara | March 5, 2015 at 4:34 pm
Hell yes a drink…and as I look at all the goddamn snow, I feel like something summery, maybe a limoncello martini.
4.
words4jp | March 5, 2015 at 4:36 pm
I can understand that!! I am getting tired of hot tea.
5.
hitandrun1964 | March 5, 2015 at 4:33 pm
There’s always that…a price…no matter what the question or answer may be. Nice one Kim.
6.
words4jp | March 5, 2015 at 4:36 pm
Thanks. I wish sometimes I could just poor a glass of something to relax. Most people do – I will never. But the thought does pass through my mind.
7.
SwittersB | March 5, 2015 at 4:52 pm
I have missed it no doubt…are you in recovery?
8.
words4jp | March 5, 2015 at 5:02 pm
No. I do not drink. A choice after having grown up with an abusive alcoholic father. The smell of it makes me sick and the taste – hate it. I could not even drink the champagne at my wedding. I had water.
9.
SwittersB | March 5, 2015 at 5:29 pm
Ok….understood. Best wishes always.
10.
georgeforfun | March 5, 2015 at 9:44 pm
Reblogged this on georgeforfun.
11.
Dom DiFrancesco | March 5, 2015 at 11:45 pm
Brrrr…where is spring. 🙂
12.
lumar1298 | March 7, 2015 at 12:50 am
Wow… Looked like clouds…
13.
Wordifull Melanie | March 7, 2015 at 3:31 am
it doesn’t really help anyway…
14.
words4jp | March 7, 2015 at 11:44 pm
I know. I have people tell me I need to indulge in a glass of wine to relax. I personally hate the taste of alcohol. I really do not think it is just a psychological thing, I just do not like the taste. It’s icky.