Brain be quiet, heart be quieter. So many thoughts and feelings skeetering around me like mice in a Nutcracker ballet and it is just too damn loud for this tiny dancer. Also--not winter. It's summertime and the livin' should be easy. And it is! It is warm and delicious. Except where it is cold and crappy. And wrong. Or maybe it is just me who is wrong. Difficult to tell.
"People are always saying you should be yourself, like yourself is this definite thing, like a toaster. Like you know what it is even. But every so often I'll have, like, a moment, where just being myself in my life right where I am is, like, enough."
I have never been able to accept the notion of being unhappy in life, even when I have been deeply unhappy. I worry a lot and with good cause but I am also insanely hopeful all the fucking time that things will improve. I believe in joy, in myself as a creature of same. But the negativity all around me swells and crashes and pulls me under far too often and it is hard to be glad about anything when you are sputtering for breath, salt blinds your eyes, and seaweed clings to you with slimy fingers.
To thine own self be true--above all things indeed. But if no one else wishes to be true to you how in the universe do you keep it real?
I wonder about honesty. About how we often never say what we want to say out of fear, and we don't do things we long to do out of fear, and everyone just lies and pretends the most important things are not. We blow off love and commitment and first times and second chances with the breezy arrogance of the beautiful and the damned, and for what? To slog along alone and lonely, taking for granted that the heart is an organ of fire and will keep you warm, like bread in a toaster, even if you don't pull the lever?
Just curious.
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