This was after the show, walking home alone...
ok, ok - i'll write something...
Sometimes I hate the laws of karma that bind me to this reality so much. I hate living in a place that suffers this heat in the summertime so badly too and would gladly pay in slave labor to be able to live in Santa Cruz, or some other affable place near a pleasant seashore that would soothe my body... and my soul. I don't know why I'm not allowed to live in Santa Cruz. When Billy and I became able to live there from 1995 to 1998 it was like we had won a huge lottery, like I had worked my way out of an enormous prison sentence and I was given a liberty to experience freedom from the previous 35 years of junk-karma I had created for myself. Was it the benefits of hard work? Or luck? Or karmic justice? Now I cannot even afford the price of a tank of gas for a day trip to Santa Cruz and my body aches so much from the mental woes and worries my mental disease inflicts me with, I'm afraid that if I got into the 50 degree waters for 30 minutes of body surfing that my musc...
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I wouldn't even been able to get in the car to get there. If you lived closer, I would of been begging you to take hubby with you.
I've only been to one concert my whole life, and hubby took me to it. Poor Man, about the third song I ditched him and made a run for the truck. I listened to the concert from the truck.
I'm glad you went even if it was alone.
It wasn't him that scared me, it was an outside concert, and hubby had picked a spot close to the stage. So when the concert started and everyone started crowding me, it was more then I could take.
I think hubby was very glad that I chew my nails that day. Me and any type of large gathering of people just don't mix.