two cats and a yard
I am safe, loved, surrounded by my trinkets. But I have fallen victim to some sort of mental paralysis which I think may only be cured by some hard work, re-wiring, psychedelics or a lobotomy. Comparison is the thief of joy and I won't let my own mind rob me of my own joy. What a crock of shit. I'm comparing myself to things and people I never would have thought twice about. What gives? I'm 34 years old and I don't think I even went through this in high school. I re-route the minecart in the caverns of my mind multiple times a day. Sometimes I don't catch it in time and the cart rolls straight into lava.
I got two big tattoos on my legs yesterday evening and was told I sat like a champ. I remember going to the doctor as a little girl, staring unmoving at the doctor giving me a booster shot and being told similarly then. Maybe I should start being more trouble to deal with, take up more space. I don't want to shrink into nothing. I do recall a sense of pride leaving the tattoo shop, though. The girls seemed to like me and my banter. But I just brought myself there and did nothing different. It did feel nice to be in an environment with somewhat like-minded individuals. I'm not in any hurry to find my tribe, I have always believed my tribe finds me when I'm ready.