I've quit my job, for the fourth time. Wishing that things were more managable, laid out for me. I'm tired, emotionally, from everything. Sex, the opposite sex, career, family. I want things to be moving, but I want to be at rest. I feel useless, helpless, worthless.

Take me away. Fly me to the moon.

Where did I go wrong? I'd like to know the answer. I feel more and more foolish as each year goes by. The more I learn, the less I know. The more I know, the less I wish I knew.

Came in Brave

- Ladyhawk

Out getting high on the back porch
I sing to the empties and cigarette butts
And I know that the song is about you
And I'd sing to your face, but I've got no guts

And the mice are an angel choir tonight
They squeak right in on the hallelujah
I'll clear my head and close my eyes
And I'll get up late and I'll give up hope in the end.