Overflowing emotion runs through my veins, And like a flood gate, It opens at the worst times, Cascading down and taking everyone with it, Reminding me I am a slave to the flow of the current, Taking me which ever way it deems most important, Sailing on the tides, We find you waiting, As though you knew exactly where we’d wash up, And for the shores that bury themselves in my thighs, The sand gathering and falling around me, I stand tall, As though not underwater by the overwhelming symptoms, Reaching for your hand, To guide me to the other side.
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...
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