Sometimes You Just Can't Help

Published 14.11.05 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

but feel alone.

You feel distant from everyone. Like you are viewing your life through the eyes of another.

You can't relate. You don't understand. You get frustrated.

You want someone--anyone--to understand you. Someone to hold you. Someone to know you.

How can they know if you if YOU don't know you? How can they understand if YOU are confused?

You tell yourself your holding out for something better. Something bigger. Something deserved.

But maybe lonliness is what you deserve after all. Who deserves to be understood?

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

Sometimes You Just Can't Help

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cookies for troops

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