Precariously perched.....

There are days when I just want to run head-long into a hard concrete wall, with hope that the impact would knock me awake or kill me. One way or another, perhaps the madness would end. A horrible thought? Well, perhaps. But I will bet you that there's not a single person who's lived that has never had these contemplations even once.

So, is it just human weakness? Plain ol' day to day depression? Or is there a sinister underlying current that runs deep? Why do we pick at our old wounds and scabs, and thrive on the pain that they inflict again and again? Why do we drive down the same old malignant road, time after time? I think that it boils down to the sadist AND masochist within us. You know, the one half that scoffs at other's misfortunes, and then the other half that goes "I HATE everything about me!"

Take a wild guess which side of the fence I'm on today.