It's remarkable how one can geel stronger and yet worse at the same time. Or perhaps its the strength that comes from doing what is necessary, when its the opposite of what you want.

Recently I began to question my sanity. I had been led to believe that things were a certain way, when they weren't. I was told I led myself to believe that.

But this time I had proof. This time I had a copy of what I had been told. It wasn't my fault.

It wasn't my fault.

Of course, having said proof didn't make things better, it only made the person I had it on mad.

So. Here I am, with proof of my sanity, but other things slipping away.

Nevermind that in the middle of said altercation, I get blindsided by my mother, out of bloody nowwhere.

It's almost as if a unilateral feminine war was declared on me, heh. Okay, that's melodramatic, and not entirely appropriate.

I don't want anything that's unreasonable, out of me, or anyone. I just want a shot, a chance, a legitimate chance at happiness. One Fighting Chance, thats all. That's all I need. I have within me greatness, as all people do. Some let it pass them by. Some deny it, and settle for mediocrity.

I desperately need to acknowledge, accept, and act on mine. It wants out, it desperately wants out. I want to share. Colloborate. Create with someone. But I do not know how.

I used to scoff at the idea of the biological clock. I did. I'd hear about it from people and laugh, saying "Hah, I do what I want, when I want, how I want."

Now...I'm reminded of it constantly. I have this interminable dreadful feeling that the Clock Is Ticking, and it's the fourth quarter, and a hundred other sports euphemisms to make it more manly.

Patience is necessary. But it's a necessary evil that may drive me insane mere moments after having proof that I am not.

The irony is not lost on me.