Hey Diary,
Sorry this entry’s dour, so shortly after the last one too.
Honestly, it’s just that I’m so, down, and up, and up.
Seems like even my gas lasts only a few days to just stay in one version of myself, kinda can’t help but think I’m falling apart at the seams. I wish I could get a grip and get a handle on myself but I’m so angry, so frustrated, so doomy. It’s the fucking everything that makes up every nightmare that days seem to be.
I keep letting myself down, letting weekends go by, poisoning my own wells, not pushing through this malaise for something greater.
My tarot deck says that risk is bad right now but, inaction is death in this regard. Do I have it the worst? Likely not, but that’s not practical nor does it matter. So, I’ll taper risk in the obvious areas, the places where I’m fucking up, and crank the amps on this circuit to something I want, something I desire. I miss working out, yoga, God the past few weeks have felt like forever. I wish I could say I could even appreciate what all this was for, but the hormonal whiplash utterly sucks cocks. Maybe I gotta burn some shit down, build up from anew. I’m a sucker for phoenixes, a massive one. Imagine if they were real.
(Just now clicking that they might actually exist *in people*……fuck)
Am I close to something here? Is this shit all just beyond my veil of comprehension? Is this concert an opportunity to reignite my flame? forge a connection? fuck if I know diary.
So pissed about the art thing, so tired of the visuals clicking and the majestic mystery being replaced by “wow that looks like utter shit” guess it looked less bad than last time but honestly, I find my sketches more soulful, I’m always freer when I can just fill something.
I’ve been quitting on myself. Maybe I’ve been running away too, yeah, I’ve been running away.
I’ve talked about flow before yeah? It’s this theory that a person can…. attain a state of being something akin to water, flow is, really my personal home it’s where everything stops being noisy and I can bite into something warm, something fulfilling, not quite sure where Buddhism may fit into my personal religious hodgepodge but if it is Buddhist, it’s been quite welcome in my life.
Something about writing this garbage word vomit always makes me feel better.
For some reason putting all my strange and absolute brain-blended feelings and emotions out there just makes it all flow out. I often wonder, if I had used this as an outlet earlier in life if I would’ve repressed as much as I did or gotten my amnesia but getting a kid to take meds was a feat enough regardless of whether I needed them or not. I have been quitting on myself because I’m afraid of getting my hand burned, I don’t want to face failure or less than stellar results, I don’t want to face the results that I feel I know will occur.
So I run, I give up, I stop making progress, I cheat and that pain is easier. Fucking idiot, that’s not the me I fought for. Bad habits die hardest, I can do better, there is no monster under my bed, there is no demon here to chastise me and I will never be called weird again. (Unless I want to be)
Ace of swords is, supposed to be a good card, the only one I didn’t pull that wasn’t inverted, the only one that felt anything but cautious.
So yeah, I’ll temper myself, I’ll refocus I’ll come back into my own and stop covering my head with the sleeping bag, I’ll gaze at the stars and reject my fear of the darkness in the night sky.
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