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Apr 24, 2006 02:12

I've let my brain tell my body where to go and what to do for a while. It's been interesting. Stimulating.
I'm a little frightened at what I've caught myself doing, but it has been good to get a little distance from myself.

I made a new sketchbook last week. More than a symbol of control; I see it as the agent of control.
I thought I had pulled myself off of some path but now it seems that I was walking through tall grass at the roadside. Mud washed off my boots by the dew, the terrain a bit less easy to navigate. But I'm still going somewhere, avoiding the Forest of Confusion and Heartbreak at all costs. I might need to stop and rest for a while before I hit the road again.


I'm not sure what this means.

I'm said to be struggling with the psychological burden of memories of more innocent times. To be moving from revelrey to nonaction. Still crying over spilled milk.
I must try to be honorable. I don't feel honorable at all.
I don't quite understand what my animal self is trying to gain from other people. I want to try to look elsewhere, in myself maybe. Not knowing what I'm looking for doesn't help that, though.
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