The Iceman Cometh

I've been trying to write a simple paragraph for over an hour.  It is too important, I guess.  I just can't say it correctly, just can't get it to come out right.  Yesterday I made a decision that effects the rest of my life.  Irrevocably.  It was not a surprise, necessarily, but it was sudden.  One of the consequences of living as I do is not having anyone to talk about these things with in the night.  You can talk to friends, of course, in the daylight, but it is does not help you viscerally.  And thus the psyche suffers, I guess.  I am different now.  I don't know.  

After the decision, I tried contacting people I thought I might want to tell.  I was largely unsuccessful.  

Then drinking alone in the night, I made mistakes.  There is no wisdom, perhaps, but only living with illusion.  When illusions begin to crumble. . . the Iceman Cometh.  

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