It started with seeing something on Facebook I wish I hadn’t; someone I’d really like to never see again liking one of those cute little copy and paste memes one of my closest friends had posted about their marriage. Rattled, but undaunted, I gathered myself up for drinks and dancing at Death Guild, the premiere weekly Goth and Industrial club happening at The DNA Lounge up in San Francisco; where I was gonna shake, twist, stomp, and drink some of my blues out.

     Nope.

     Instead I ended up getting caught up in some bullshit drama with a friend and one of his girlfriends. Why? No clue, I can only guess why I became the target. But he knew, and – as I’m finding out – deeply involved in some of the shit that went down back at the end of April. So, I decided to bolt right there and then, instead of making what was sure to be a very bloody scene (Ironic for a Goth club, no?) before the alcohol could take full effect.

     Then I spent the next week in self imposed seclusion from Facebook and, well, everyone, as I stewed in my own pain and self doubt. I tore myself apart, and had more than a couple moments where I found myself to a quiet, hidden place in the office to have mini break downs. I think that’s also ironic, too; I can bench more than I weigh and punch the holy hell out of objects of heft, but some stray words reduce me to rubble.

     I’m trying to not let these two poly run-ins color my opinion about the whole of all of those who do what they do… but, folks, it’s not looking good for you. And the fate of this two decade friendship – just recently rekindled – also remains to be scene.

     I know there’s things to be learned, here. And the old adage; that which does not kill me…

     You know what? Fuck that. I’d kind of like a break, now; something to maybe go a little more my way would sure be a nice break right about now. I don’t know, win the lottery, hang out with actual friends more, get my novel published… or, at least, get in with a girl who is not full of piss and vinegar and lies and isn’t bat-shit crazy.

     I don’t know, am I asking for too much?