I am just so very tired.
Looking at grad school stuff and feeling sick and shaky and nervous and weird and this is a silent cry for help (help). If I read the words ‘hone your craft’ one more time I might actually lose it enough to change my mind. When will my life not involve mindlessly yet thoughtfully checking my emails? (probably never)
I would like something bright, shiny, and new. Something that is mine and no one else’s.
I would also like some coffee.
reminding myself of the desires I don’t even know I have
I am trying to remember what made me go back so many times, why that was okay, why it was necessary, why I thought it was necessary, why I felt like I owed someone something, and why I felt like everyone owed me something, almost as great as I owed them. Why I felt bad when I did nothing wrong. Why I didn’t feel bad when I did so much wrong. I am forgiving and forgetting. You, and you, and you, and myself. The first part I am good at, I think. A surface level forgiveness, maybe not the deep seeded, seventy times seven kind. I am willing. I am able. I am trying. I am willing and able to try. I am apologizing profusely for my past self. Does one ever get to a point in life where that doesn’t have to happen? Does one ever do anything profusely but apologize, or bleed? I will let you know if I (when I) ever find out.
I want everyone who has ever hurt me to be miserable. I mean, I want everyone who has ever hurt me to say sorry and mean it. To recognize and apologize. To say “I am so sorry I hurt you and made you feel this way. This way in which you do not deserve to feel, because you are a kind person. Because you were a kind person to me.” I harbor resentment and anger that only comes up when I really think about it. I am trying to figure out what made me think things that happened/didn’t happen were okay. Why I brought things upon myself, and didn’t stop them. Why I did nothing. Why I did too much. I am genuinely sorry to anyone who wants me to be miserable. You don’t deserve it.I hope you are happy.
since the thing perhaps is
to eat flowers and not to be afraid
I have forgotten how to fool myself-
and remembered I was never really fooling myself to begin with.