States

I am writing, writing, writing away. About what, I don't know. Nothing in particular is coming to mind but I am to write. I could tell a story. I could give some backround information about myself. I could just stop now, and leave the rest of the page blank. Blank page. Blank mind. Blank. Blank. Blank. I am stuck here, in my chair, trying to think of something intelligent or profound or witty or even sad to say. I've got nothing. So, I'll just keep going and going, like the Engergizer Bunny. Beating my drum. Beat, beat, beating my drum for an idea. Writer's block. Writer's blank.

Demons of past regressions haunt that which is my mind and soul. Lost time and lost friends with names I cannot remember. Four states wide, three states lost. One state home. I called one state anger, one lonely, one depressed. This state I call happy. Happy home. This is my happy home state.

I remember anger state. Pent up and malicious, I would use. I'd fall back into old habits, pick up new ones, then fall back again. This state was in the south. There was no snow, but I'd ski anyway. The anger state turned me to the rocks. Tic-Tacs or patato salad. Soft and hard. I remember the anger state.

I remember lonely state, too. Pins, jacks, fits. Loneliness pinned me down, jacked me up and caused fits. I fought lonliness with the pins, jacks, and fits. I never won, though. There's no winning a war pitted against yourself. I caved and gave in. I let my white flag hang high. I remember lonely state, too.

I remember depressed state as well. It was cold up north. Depreciation of all of myself left me alone. Again I was pinned, jacked up, and having fits. Again I fought a winless war. And yet again, I let that white flag wave. I remember depressed state as well.

Now, I'm in happy home state. No wars. No pins. No jacks. No fits. No flags. Happy home state. I'll never forget happy home state.