RETREAT
reactivity. that's the theme.
all was superb and then a client that I thought was in the bag went away, through (I hope) no fault of my own.
and then someone sent an e-mail that included a couple of condescending words. I already suspect this person hates me, and I have no idea why. and the thing she is mad about IS NOT MY FUCKING FAULT WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN?!
oh yeah, the whispers whisper, because I am out in the world and doing things. because I am trying to engage with the world. because that's what happens when you stick your neck, or hand, or toe, or thoughts out.
because I am doomed to fail.
and then I saw something, some words, that made me panic, there is this borderline triangulation thing happening in my head and like I don't even want to know why you said that it's bothering me, you and your honesty and your fucking words.
sinking feeling that everyone really does hate me, that it's a giant practical joke, that it's all an illusion, that I am widely reviled and despised.
I just don't want anyone to see or hear or be aware of my presence. I want to be erased. all evidence, like one of those poorly done horror movies that would be better if only they got this part right: the person they miss, the person who remembers, the person who doesn't get wiped - that would be me.
all was superb and then a client that I thought was in the bag went away, through (I hope) no fault of my own.
and then someone sent an e-mail that included a couple of condescending words. I already suspect this person hates me, and I have no idea why. and the thing she is mad about IS NOT MY FUCKING FAULT WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN?!
oh yeah, the whispers whisper, because I am out in the world and doing things. because I am trying to engage with the world. because that's what happens when you stick your neck, or hand, or toe, or thoughts out.
because I am doomed to fail.
and then I saw something, some words, that made me panic, there is this borderline triangulation thing happening in my head and like I don't even want to know why you said that it's bothering me, you and your honesty and your fucking words.
sinking feeling that everyone really does hate me, that it's a giant practical joke, that it's all an illusion, that I am widely reviled and despised.
I just don't want anyone to see or hear or be aware of my presence. I want to be erased. all evidence, like one of those poorly done horror movies that would be better if only they got this part right: the person they miss, the person who remembers, the person who doesn't get wiped - that would be me.