Noise again, just as I suspected.
When it rains, it pours...for lack of a more original metaphor.
First I have the complete calm,
like white noise eating away at my sense of self-actualization.
Now it's commotion and nameless concerns.
.
.
.
I want at least two things right now:
One, I want to be cradled like a baby and
promised that my insides are safe when they are
lifted up as some sort of sacred offering.
Secondly, I want to be fucked in new ways,
intense and dominated and slightly painful,
I want to play pretend again.
This to be alternated with what is written directly above.
Third, I want to be immune from the passage of time
and all miscommunications and misinterpretations.
Fourth, I want to isolate all variables
so I can be confident of what things are causing what.
Fifth, I want to tell my family what I am really like these days.
Sixth, I want to live in a place where I feel at home.
Seventh, I want to break the habit of (almost) deliberately
obscuring my real-life problems into abstract emotional episodes
just so they are more manageable and no real action is required.
I mean, I want to be able to say what I think instead of
trying to convince myself that whatever thing bothering me is just me being dramatic.
Because when I see it as only a weird feeling,
I disconnect it from the actual problem. I FORGET the actual problem even exists.
And then I don't do shit about whatever is bothering me.
I just bask in "irrational" emotions.
And the problem grows.
One thing I realized at the barbecue, a baby is
an object for a person's love to be pointed at
when there aren't already enough places for it to go,
an entity that gives you significance
when maybe you feel like that's what you need in life.
And I don't need that. I don't want kids for a long time
even though I always thought I couldn't wait.
I mean, I really have changed, better or worse.
I still don't feel like I've got my shit together
but at least I want to see what the shit is now
instead of running from it.
But it's hard to break that sort of habit.
.
.
.
There will be more later. More issues that I feel starting to move around before they surface.
First I have the complete calm,
like white noise eating away at my sense of self-actualization.
Now it's commotion and nameless concerns.
.
.
.
I want at least two things right now:
One, I want to be cradled like a baby and
promised that my insides are safe when they are
lifted up as some sort of sacred offering.
Secondly, I want to be fucked in new ways,
intense and dominated and slightly painful,
I want to play pretend again.
This to be alternated with what is written directly above.
Third, I want to be immune from the passage of time
and all miscommunications and misinterpretations.
Fourth, I want to isolate all variables
so I can be confident of what things are causing what.
Fifth, I want to tell my family what I am really like these days.
Sixth, I want to live in a place where I feel at home.
Seventh, I want to break the habit of (almost) deliberately
obscuring my real-life problems into abstract emotional episodes
just so they are more manageable and no real action is required.
I mean, I want to be able to say what I think instead of
trying to convince myself that whatever thing bothering me is just me being dramatic.
Because when I see it as only a weird feeling,
I disconnect it from the actual problem. I FORGET the actual problem even exists.
And then I don't do shit about whatever is bothering me.
I just bask in "irrational" emotions.
And the problem grows.
One thing I realized at the barbecue, a baby is
an object for a person's love to be pointed at
when there aren't already enough places for it to go,
an entity that gives you significance
when maybe you feel like that's what you need in life.
And I don't need that. I don't want kids for a long time
even though I always thought I couldn't wait.
I mean, I really have changed, better or worse.
I still don't feel like I've got my shit together
but at least I want to see what the shit is now
instead of running from it.
But it's hard to break that sort of habit.
.
.
.
There will be more later. More issues that I feel starting to move around before they surface.