Just kind of a blah day, Christmas coming at me like a freight train (though the actual day is usually quite wonderful - so why?). Frustrated at the breakup of a 20-year friendship which had become irretrievably sour, unwilling to be a dumping ground for misplaced buckets of bile. The assumption being I was always ready and willing to receive, infinitely patient, accepting and understanding.
Life is just sour sometimes, it sucks or is boring, and the nice parts fly by so fast you don't even know how good they are. None of this is new. None of this is dramatic or suicidal or even really depressive, just fed up and uninspired.
I make Facebook covers of Harold Lloyd, obsessively, usually late at night (and when did I start staying up so late? For years and years I went to bed at 10:00 and got up at 6:00), and lately they are becoming more florid. Just for fun. I like the candy-colored tinted photos that were often used for promotion, and they lend themselves to florid backgrounds.
But in the final analysis, it's boring and I still feel chronically left out. It's no use, after all these years, to learn to skip Double Dutch or any other way. So I am left standing on the sidelines, or behind something. Bored.