What am I doing?
I'm not sure what I'm doing. I have quite a few aspirations, but they're distant. I feel them and their power, but I can't take hold of them and blast off into outer space. When I think about typing in a journal, I don't really want to. I used to think that it was complicated to explain, but after so much time, I can say that it's mostly about two things: knowing that I care more than other people do, and the completeness of existing that solitude allows me. I can see me, but other people can't. They can see aspects of me, but they don't care enough about living and the world around them to have the vision to see me. When I'm by myself, I don't have to be confined in the little cube that contains their boxed-in version of reality. And I don't have to be constantly reminded of how much they don't care.
I don't want to be trapped in a me-sized-cage though. I just have to keep thinking about everything from various perspectives and make sure that I'm not ignoring any possibilities for myself. I've given thought to the possibility that I need time to finally grieve over a platitude of disappointments. I always thought that I needed to keep pushing myself, and I accomplished a lot, but I was never at my best. Really, I was always bracing myself throughout my childhood, alienated and on the run from almost everyone. No opportunity to just be supported and create a stable foundation, just finding shelter, losing that shelter, recovering and repeating. But now, I think I'm in a better situation.
I wanted to find that girl, or try to anyway. The one from "ancient times." After I was so motivated by the memory of her, I realized more than ever that I'm not in the condition to do anything like that. Letting myself rest used to be a difficult feat. I want to get to where I want to be, and I've been tired of where I've been since I was in preschool (and knew that I was far more emotionally mature than my parents.) I have to rest though. All the while, I feel my talents and creativity becoming greater and greater. And I feel soreness in the entirety of my pecs because I do push-ups every hour with one of my co-workers. 36 regular pushups one hour, 22 triangle-push-ups the next, alternating every hour.
I don't want to be trapped in a me-sized-cage though. I just have to keep thinking about everything from various perspectives and make sure that I'm not ignoring any possibilities for myself. I've given thought to the possibility that I need time to finally grieve over a platitude of disappointments. I always thought that I needed to keep pushing myself, and I accomplished a lot, but I was never at my best. Really, I was always bracing myself throughout my childhood, alienated and on the run from almost everyone. No opportunity to just be supported and create a stable foundation, just finding shelter, losing that shelter, recovering and repeating. But now, I think I'm in a better situation.
I wanted to find that girl, or try to anyway. The one from "ancient times." After I was so motivated by the memory of her, I realized more than ever that I'm not in the condition to do anything like that. Letting myself rest used to be a difficult feat. I want to get to where I want to be, and I've been tired of where I've been since I was in preschool (and knew that I was far more emotionally mature than my parents.) I have to rest though. All the while, I feel my talents and creativity becoming greater and greater. And I feel soreness in the entirety of my pecs because I do push-ups every hour with one of my co-workers. 36 regular pushups one hour, 22 triangle-push-ups the next, alternating every hour.