Does pain provoke your creativity?

I wasn't to going to start this post with,
"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?"

But I obviously did, because, my own writing = my own, and true words.

Maybe, perhaps...I should combine these 2 leetel blogs of mine? One is about marriage, family, mental health and the other? Well, it was supposed to be, insignificant, impersonal dabbles of my "crafting" (slash) "making shit out of other shit".

Bitterness apparent on this entry is now officially at super shit sour...

I couldn't find the right reasoning to talking about this latest loss on a blog titled "Eddie and Lindsay". Because Eddie and I are such a hard working, compromising and competition team.

2015, for me, is like that Dr. Dre lyric, "best friends and money? I lost them both".

I won't divulge details, incriminating, negative or otherwise.

A last, very last good friend, of mine...strange to say "mine" because never is another human being your very own.

I lost, the last, friendship that inspires me. It such a painful and deep way that sorrow grinds at my insides.

I'm not sorry. But is this NOT picture of friendship? 

Mental illness
His?
Mine?
Ours?
Oh shit
I already spent
Thousands
Of hours
To get over this before.

The continued theme of this life of mine is style and I'm over it.

More creative craft magic bullshit entries to follow soon I promise. Not for you, but for me.

Protection.