Sep 27
Tired
I want to write something, many somethings, but I’m tired. Lots of ideas, no energy to write them.
I feel the Ativan grabbing me by the shoulders, holding me close, breathing softly in my ear. It’s not warm and nice like a lovers touch, it’s cold and lonely. It whispers empty nothings as it lulls me into unconsciousness. A lover’s whisper feels safe, promises something for tomorrow. Held by Ativan, I wake alone, but at least I sleep. My love was my Ativan, sleep warmer, waking brighter.
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I always found Ativan quite comforting when I had to take it for panic attacks.
It definitely puts me out.
Ativan puts me in the clouds and leaves me in the clouds for quite a while.
P.S. wish Obama would have totally kicked McCain’s ass last night!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
The whole point of transforming our heart and mind is to find happiness. We all have the natural desire to be happy and the wish to overcome suffering. This is a fact, so we can make it our starting point.
– Dalai Lama