found friend

I finger an old book from my shelf, toss words around with familiar ears, though foreign as of late. Head and heart, head and heart. The phrase won't leave my head and heart. Mile a minute madness of details I focus on in order to ignore/postpone/fend off emotions/feelings/sins. This old friend gets in my blood, and I in his to be sure. It feels like mere moments (several of them) or decades have gone by. Yet here stands our bridge, here runs our streams of consciousness conjoined, a testament to this ship of friends, fools, fantasies.
Intense fervor grips me in the middle of the night and I write and read and smoke and cannot sleep or eat or think except to act or reminisce. Vivid sensory memories assail me from all sites I lay my tired eyes upon. I am grateful to have such friends who bouy me (most of the time without knowing they are aiding so) and bolster my self-esteem and keep me inspired and cruising on a most marvelous high. I am lucky to have a life laid back as this, even though my pace can reach a frantic hum at times. I am lucky to have good food and a place for my children to be warm and safe at night. I am lucky. So, so lucky. How can I ever let the little things get me down?