(no subject)
I am alone, in the bathroom.
The neighbors next door are throwing a party. Shots, shots, shots. Then it sounded like they were chanting “three cup cakes, three cup cakes”
In a fuck it moment of excellent opportunity, Lester and I bought plane tickets to Hawaii. We leave in five weeks. I am not sure what to expect of myself, or the locale, when I get there; all I know is I can’t wait to be away from home for a while. I’m debating whether I want to come back. I’ll give my brother my fish. And my key, just in case.
I’m tired. I live my life in constant rounds of ups and downs, and I’ve always been this way. I don’t know how to be untired.
I’m alone a lot, but I seem to be doing this on purpose. I both want and don’t want to see people. It’s like whatever situation I’m in, I want to be in the other one. So it probably doesn’t have to do with being around people (or not) at all.
I don’t currently have any huge aspirations or plans, except continuing my amateur mechanic education.
I’ve been 28 for 2 months.
I’ve been monogamous for almost a year and a half.
I’ve been out of school for almost 6 years.
I have no career plans, and I don’t think I will. If anything pans out in a typical sense of “success,” it will be in opening my own business, or in suddenly coming into money by chance. But as far as my own version of success goes, this is it.
For as much as I enjoy being myself, sometimes I really, really hate the way my brain makes me feel. I know it’s cyclic, but in the moment I feel like I lose my grip, and I really don’t like that feeling. Because I think a lot of really stupid things that are completely unproductive, and if I’m stuck in the chemical slump too long it starts to become a pattern even after it’s over.
I think I’m just afraid of falling down another hole, after I’ve worked so hard to climb out of the last one, and anything that even resembles the shade of it within my skull makes me worry that the reckless side of me will prevail again.
I won’t be a fuck up. I will find my way. I won’t burn down everything good. I am not caged within myself. I will be fine, tomorrow will be good, I am still alive so there’s always a chance. Nothing is permanent, and that is a beautiful, comforting fact for a girl like me.
The neighbors next door are throwing a party. Shots, shots, shots. Then it sounded like they were chanting “three cup cakes, three cup cakes”
In a fuck it moment of excellent opportunity, Lester and I bought plane tickets to Hawaii. We leave in five weeks. I am not sure what to expect of myself, or the locale, when I get there; all I know is I can’t wait to be away from home for a while. I’m debating whether I want to come back. I’ll give my brother my fish. And my key, just in case.
I’m tired. I live my life in constant rounds of ups and downs, and I’ve always been this way. I don’t know how to be untired.
I’m alone a lot, but I seem to be doing this on purpose. I both want and don’t want to see people. It’s like whatever situation I’m in, I want to be in the other one. So it probably doesn’t have to do with being around people (or not) at all.
I don’t currently have any huge aspirations or plans, except continuing my amateur mechanic education.
I’ve been 28 for 2 months.
I’ve been monogamous for almost a year and a half.
I’ve been out of school for almost 6 years.
I have no career plans, and I don’t think I will. If anything pans out in a typical sense of “success,” it will be in opening my own business, or in suddenly coming into money by chance. But as far as my own version of success goes, this is it.
For as much as I enjoy being myself, sometimes I really, really hate the way my brain makes me feel. I know it’s cyclic, but in the moment I feel like I lose my grip, and I really don’t like that feeling. Because I think a lot of really stupid things that are completely unproductive, and if I’m stuck in the chemical slump too long it starts to become a pattern even after it’s over.
I think I’m just afraid of falling down another hole, after I’ve worked so hard to climb out of the last one, and anything that even resembles the shade of it within my skull makes me worry that the reckless side of me will prevail again.
I won’t be a fuck up. I will find my way. I won’t burn down everything good. I am not caged within myself. I will be fine, tomorrow will be good, I am still alive so there’s always a chance. Nothing is permanent, and that is a beautiful, comforting fact for a girl like me.