(no subject)
It seems I always end up here again.
I'm not so sure if it's me attempting to chronicle my past, even all the things I'd rather forget, but maybe, at least this is a verbal legacy of how I've evolved.
My written thoughts are scattered about the internet. They need to coalesce. I think I'm more uncomfortable these days with an organizational mess than avoiding whatever mess is/was/will be in my head.
My head is always a mess. And frankly, I like it that way. There is no better surprise than surprising yourself.
I stopped writing so much because I stopped needing the catharsis. And I got busy and felt guilty talking to a blank page.
But let's be honest here, I don't talk to anyone any more or less than I used to. Not about myself anyway. I don't really feel the need to. I love to tell my stories but only if someone really wants to know. Otherwise there's no point. I've heard it all before. I mean, jeez, I have lived my life after all.
So maybe I'll start again. Maybe I just need to get things out, good or bad, so they get out and I can move on to the next task.
Every time I come here I forget that I've been me for a long time. Every year I think I've evolved spectacularly, but really, I'm just getting better at feeling okay. Not there yet but, time is an illusion anyway.
I'm proud of what I've become. Compared to these vaults, it's almost shocking. But at the same time, it's not that I've changed at all. I guess I just trust myself a lot more than I used to.
I'm looking forward to growing even more.
I have to go to the bank and cash a check. I'm going to go for a drive and smoke a cigarette. I need to study, bad. Really bad. Seems that's always the case.
Until later,
Yours truly.
I'm not so sure if it's me attempting to chronicle my past, even all the things I'd rather forget, but maybe, at least this is a verbal legacy of how I've evolved.
My written thoughts are scattered about the internet. They need to coalesce. I think I'm more uncomfortable these days with an organizational mess than avoiding whatever mess is/was/will be in my head.
My head is always a mess. And frankly, I like it that way. There is no better surprise than surprising yourself.
I stopped writing so much because I stopped needing the catharsis. And I got busy and felt guilty talking to a blank page.
But let's be honest here, I don't talk to anyone any more or less than I used to. Not about myself anyway. I don't really feel the need to. I love to tell my stories but only if someone really wants to know. Otherwise there's no point. I've heard it all before. I mean, jeez, I have lived my life after all.
So maybe I'll start again. Maybe I just need to get things out, good or bad, so they get out and I can move on to the next task.
Every time I come here I forget that I've been me for a long time. Every year I think I've evolved spectacularly, but really, I'm just getting better at feeling okay. Not there yet but, time is an illusion anyway.
I'm proud of what I've become. Compared to these vaults, it's almost shocking. But at the same time, it's not that I've changed at all. I guess I just trust myself a lot more than I used to.
I'm looking forward to growing even more.
I have to go to the bank and cash a check. I'm going to go for a drive and smoke a cigarette. I need to study, bad. Really bad. Seems that's always the case.
Until later,
Yours truly.