(no subject)
Living alone is starting to feel right. Now that the project in 18 pieces is on the wall and not the floor. I like the look of it. The place is starting to resemble... me. And that was the point.
Even if the bedroom is a small icebox.
So it's starting to feel right, but it's still very quiet. The talking to myself thing bleeds out into public moments. Rock gym changing room -- deserted -- I'm talking to myself in a whisper about who knows what and the door creaks open. Suddenly I realize someone's going to hear me, so I zip my lip.
So I'm my best friend these days. I'm my roommate. We've just got a lot to say and no one else to say it to, that's all. No noise to make during the day. Just mad IM'ing to coworkers and straining to finish pieces of writing that don't really resemble me at all.
But I'm letting myself feel a little crazier than usual in my off hours. Not crazy drunk or crazy party or crazy funny. Just... crazy. And that's a good thing. I think it's my true personality showing its head. Damn time.
And one name has been scratching over and over, broken-record-style in my brain, since radio silence. Self-doubt leaves me confused. I teeter. Try again? Leave be? Try again? Move along? Wasn't right anyway, right? Nice, though. Oh what do I know.
Jul says it's serving some purpose, that incessant rhythm. It's trying to be my friend. So I listen. I let it say its thing. I acknowledge that it's there. And then I go to bed.
Even if the bedroom is a small icebox.
So it's starting to feel right, but it's still very quiet. The talking to myself thing bleeds out into public moments. Rock gym changing room -- deserted -- I'm talking to myself in a whisper about who knows what and the door creaks open. Suddenly I realize someone's going to hear me, so I zip my lip.
So I'm my best friend these days. I'm my roommate. We've just got a lot to say and no one else to say it to, that's all. No noise to make during the day. Just mad IM'ing to coworkers and straining to finish pieces of writing that don't really resemble me at all.
But I'm letting myself feel a little crazier than usual in my off hours. Not crazy drunk or crazy party or crazy funny. Just... crazy. And that's a good thing. I think it's my true personality showing its head. Damn time.
And one name has been scratching over and over, broken-record-style in my brain, since radio silence. Self-doubt leaves me confused. I teeter. Try again? Leave be? Try again? Move along? Wasn't right anyway, right? Nice, though. Oh what do I know.
Jul says it's serving some purpose, that incessant rhythm. It's trying to be my friend. So I listen. I let it say its thing. I acknowledge that it's there. And then I go to bed.