(no subject)
When did I stop? Can you tell me? What happened to the drive I once had to be articulate and add a different sort of presence to a room. For some reason I stopped caring about managing myself, becoming more of what I wanted to be, and doing more of what I wanted to do. Excuse me though, not so much that I stopped caring, but stopped allowing myself the time of the day to do such things.
I feel like I am half of the person I once was should be today. Do you feel that way dear? Do you think I am losing touch with who i am and what i want to become?
...I am becoming Fucking Sterile...
I am happy with all of the things in my life that pertain to traditional existence. But in my non secular life I feel dissatisfied with myself, as if
.I.COULD. BE.
.DOING. . SO. VERY. MUCH.
.MORE. YOU.
.WHORE.
AfteR a while I begin to question myself... Am I even good at any of these things that I can do? And if so where the hell is the proof that I can even do them in the first place. And where proof is shown, it is always scattered like the beginnings of an idea, the inklings of a new story in a writers head before the bestseller, but I just cannot seem to find the fucking pen to dig it out my bones with. Maybe you can help me. If I just pour every thought into you, every idea, vision, dream, feeling. Maybe by feeding you these things in a constant manner i will begin to take the shape of what I feel I should be. And that is something sharpeR, with less intellectual fat and baggage. So yes, you will help I've decided.
I feel like I am half of the person I once was should be today. Do you feel that way dear? Do you think I am losing touch with who i am and what i want to become?
...I am becoming Fucking Sterile...
I am happy with all of the things in my life that pertain to traditional existence. But in my non secular life I feel dissatisfied with myself, as if
.I.COULD. BE.
.DOING. . SO. VERY. MUCH.
.MORE. YOU.
.WHORE.
AfteR a while I begin to question myself... Am I even good at any of these things that I can do? And if so where the hell is the proof that I can even do them in the first place. And where proof is shown, it is always scattered like the beginnings of an idea, the inklings of a new story in a writers head before the bestseller, but I just cannot seem to find the fucking pen to dig it out my bones with. Maybe you can help me. If I just pour every thought into you, every idea, vision, dream, feeling. Maybe by feeding you these things in a constant manner i will begin to take the shape of what I feel I should be. And that is something sharpeR, with less intellectual fat and baggage. So yes, you will help I've decided.