And now for something completely different...
Despite the trend of my self-indulgent soupy melancholy entries, turmoil is at an all-time low.
i'm terrified to admit what i'm feeling. How silly is it to be horrified at your own happiness?
Admitting something pleasant is saturating my life makes me paranoid that noting its existence will end it and i'll go plummeting back into some pitiful place of indecision and awkward isolation. Like normalcy.
On a natural high, it's hard to look down knowing the lows with such expertise and associating them with life. i know the trauma and petty drama will lap in with the tides but until then i'm biding my time savoring this foreign tranquility.
Sometimes i question whether or not these refreshing, ambitious feelings are preventing me from doing something that's desperately needed in the world. Most times i decide that my quests for noble pursuits in the past have been feeble and notorious for spiraling into disillusionment and i should allow myself to fully feel this foreign rush of strong focus.
Being officially with someone who i've completely confided in and can communicate with is another uncommon good that i can't seem to fully believe. Being actually committed to someone who can both challenge and console me is so strange and i'm so thankful for it. And reciprocating in the relationship is my pleasure.
For once, i'm facing my battles with some ambition and overwhelming drive.
Still after the lashings of dark days in the too recent past, i pray this burst of wellness isn't short-lived.
And for the record, i love Dr. Zhivago. Rocky III isn't so bad either. And Star Wars is always a pleasure, especially when it's part of your curriculum.