Bed.

As I sit here scratch that... well lay here in my bed I contemplate whether anything will compare to my soft cushion of heaven. Why face the mistakes and perilous journeys that the day has to offer. I mean if I stay in bed no makeup or hair has to be done, people assume you either died or am a teenager  and you have the sick card in with your hand of kings. Although getting out of bed could benefit somethings I presume. I could try to muster up the strength to put the pieces of my social life back together. Or blog more all day. I could read Moby Dick. When faced with reality it hurts like a knife being stabbed at the apex of your heart. The truth is whether I want to face the present my past or my future I would have to get out of this so decadent BED and this truth hurt just as any other UNBARALE truth. So save yourself the pain and don't contemplate just do it even if it hurts.