You know, I have a team in place that is basically a small army. Yesterday, I woke up broke, broken-hearted, and homeless.
Fast forward to this morning. Still broken-hearted, but I’ll be damned if some shit didn’t come together quick once my team showed up.
Thank you, Jesus.
Today, I’m in a hotel room with the prospects of moving forward, and living again. Not that I really feel like it, but I actually have people to disappoint these days, and I’m not cool with that.
I love my team. My readers. My haters, even.
But, Jesus, I love that man so much. However, in the wise words of BMan, “Do you know what keeps me rooted in the same spot I’ve been for the better part of a decade? Fear. I’m afraid of the wool being pulled over my eyes, the banana in the tailpipe, the rug being pulled from under me.”
Exactly.
It’s the fear of being a damned fool again. In front of everyone. The entire audience. And finding yourself broken-hearted, broke, homeless, egg-faced, and standing with your dead ass heart in your hands wondering what the fuck to do now.
So, now you know what my feelings are. What’s left of them. I’m fucking destroyed.
That’s it. Headed to the shower to cry again.