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Baggage

A good friend told me that the secret to relationships is to find someone with baggage that matches your baggage.

Dating is all about finding someone with matching baggage

My hands are shaking again.

The only drug that I know that works to knock me out causes a rare but nasty side effect called tardive dyskinesia, which basically results in a funny twitch or tic in the face. It’s permanent, no cure. Yeah, like I need to be any weirder.

Ergo, I avoid taking it until I truly need to catch up on sleep. On a related note, as I’ve gotten older, I do more and more odd tics with my hands. Basically, I talk a lot with my hands.

Must look ridiculous on my mobile.

My friends make fun of me. I think they think I do it to be dramatic. Maybe I do, a little. But you ever jump up and down when you’re a kid because you’re so excited about something? Nervous energy. That’s me. My hands tingle and I can’t keep them still. Like an itch. Now that I drink, it’s far more pronounced.

So I’m on day two of little sleep. I suppose tomorrow I’ll have to give in because I’m seeing the girl with the blue jean eyes again.

A good friend told me that the secret to relationships is to find someone with baggage that matches yours. So true. She spent 25+ years being her; I spent 30+ years being me. It’s hard to bang two fully formed adults together to something homogeneous. But I guess people do it all the time.

I don’t know how but they do.

There’s a lot going against us, me and BJ eyes. She’s got her baggage; I’ve got mine. But I told her that I would honest with her if she would do the same for me.

I’ll take honesty and those eyes any day of the week.

Now if I could only get some @#$@# sleep…

Location: my living room, pacing
Mood: awake
Music: every time I try to make it right it all comes down on me
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