This page is blank. My mind is blank. Is this a lack of inspiration or I'm just done and nothing matters.
Perhaps if I get up and pace. Think about the blank page I'll be inspired and motivated to fill the page. Oh look squirrel! I see dust on the coffee table. Not even sure I want to dust. Fuck, it's not hard to dust. Everyone does it. TikTok vids on how to dust makes it look fun and has 1,439 likes. Okay, I'll dust. Do it as an act of mindfulness. Would Buddha approve?
With a swipe of the rag I take a deep breath for a count of four, hold it for six, and exhale to eight. Another swipe at the dust and more 4-7-8 breathing. My mind is blank. So is the page.
Look squirrel! The sheets need changing. Okay I'll do that. Yeah me. Maybe I will polish the stainless steel counter. Yeah me again. I continue to pace in lazy loops around the apartment. Look out the front windows and across into windows of families engaging in their daily kabuki pantomime. Walk to the rear windows and watch pigeons sitting on air ducts. Do they ever get tired of wearing grey?
Images of life outside my widow shows how half filled my glass/life is. Filling a blank page is an act of meaning with purpose drawn from within. I have not one iota of give a fuck about anything. Meaning, purpose, and drive has flitted, failed, fallen, and fucked me over. I guess this can be a short post of "Nothing matters" not even me to me. Thank you for tuning in.
This is all a bit more complex. I know that by any material measure I should be thriving. I am thriving for all intents and purposes. There is dull patina brushed over this thriving... I did loose Donna. Hard core ideation is coursing through my veins. I don't see myself in the mirror because I don't like what I see. I've friends. Except that I project on to them what I don't like about me ergo I don't call or make plans. Emotional, cognitive, and life dissonance in real time.
Case in point, I made granola. I wanted to have that with yogurt and not a quart of ice cream. In the past I I'd take a granola photo and post it. Get some props, hearts, and likes. Yeah! I was noticed. The harsh light of my reality is that all I'm doing is being a toddler jumping up and down shouting look at me. AKA: Needy. Enough with the needy shit my mind shouts at me. If I feel I'm being all up in the grill of needy then everyone else sees it because, I'm the best arbiter of what others are thinking.
My world is shrinking largely do to me. I've just had enough of fighting the good fight, trying to make a difference, helping, supporting, enthusiastic, and being there for others. I can do that. I do that. Is it enough? Is there meaning and purpose in it or anything any longer? Perhaps there is though this meaning and purpose does not drive outcomes for my meaning and purpose. Or to anyone else's.
In my defense if I listen to the voices of others I do make a difference. I've saved lives in my volunteer crisis counseling. I am there for friends to support and comfort. I admire and cherish friends who are self actualized and thriving on all levels. Those I value the most tell me that small discreet acts do have profound effects. Okay I guess. More look at me going on here and doubting it all.
I remain or feel I remain as invisible to others as I do to myself. I do not like how I behave with my chattering away at friends while clutching my strand of needy pearls. I feel uncomfortable doing it and always after. Which is why I'm actively working to curb my yammering and examining at my behavior.
Oystering is the word of moment. Pull back but not surrender my kindness to others, just to myself. Allow the feelings of this to wash over me and smooth out the jagged edges of needy. Nothing helps self-worth as much as isolation.
maybe
we are designed
to break,
to be taught
how much
we can take
and still
endure.
maybe this
is how
the future
survives
the past.
Blake Auden
In my defense if I listen to the voices of others I do make a difference. I've saved lives in my volunteer crisis counseling. I am there for friends to support and comfort. I admire and cherish friends who are self actualized and thriving on all levels. Those I value the most tell me that small discreet acts do have profound effects. Okay I guess. More look at me going on here and doubting it all.
I remain or feel I remain as invisible to others as I do to myself. I do not like how I behave with my chattering away at friends while clutching my strand of needy pearls. I feel uncomfortable doing it and always after. Which is why I'm actively working to curb my yammering look at me behavior.
Oystering is the word of moment. Pull back but not surrender my kindness to others, just to myself. Allow the feelings of this to wash over me and smooth out the jagged edges of needy. Nothing helps self-worth as much as isolation.
maybe
we are designed
to break,
to be taught
how much
we can take
and still
endure.
maybe this
is how
the future
survives
the past.
Blake Auden