Sorry sorry sorry - for sharing - for writing how I feel. Sorry for being down 75% of the time. Sorry for stressing, sorry for being toxic, for adding to your load. Sorry for being human, funny, sad, stressy, just plain sorry for being ME.Actually I'm not, I have had over the past five years had my fair share of back luck, and I've let it consume me at times. I thank my good faithful friends who listen to me, and who I hope I listen to in turn so that I can give something back to.
We're all stressed, Trump in the White House, Farage and Marie Penn on the move. Do we look good enough? Behave good/bad enough? Eat too much? Eat too little? Care? Don't care? Are we ill? Suffered loss? In love? Out of love? Believe in a good God or a bad one? or none at all?
Overwhelming. We all need a shoulder to cry on. My blog has been that for me. Honed my writing skills, gave me a platform to shout from. I don't know who's listening, well I know a couple. Could be friends - could be enemies - I wear my heart on my sleeve.
Heart on my sleeve. Iago: ... Doing so, Iago says, soon leads to betrayal; when your heart is displayed so openly, as if upon your sleeve, the "daws" (jackdaws) will accept the invitation to peck away at it.
Hath not a Margaret hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as everyone else has? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
Sorry my dear Will Shakespeare to take and molest your words.
I am exhausted and need a break, so be kind, not just to me, but to each other. There is so much anger that's unnecessary, so much hate unfounded.
I have a temper as red as my hair and controlling it takes Herculaneum efforts, sometimes the words spill out uninvited like acid from a broken phial - but it is not meant and forgotten as soon as it leaves my mouth. But the hurt caused stays - and for that I truly do apologise.