Tuesday, August 18, 2015

somehow within my battered, anarchic ennui, in which i learn everything i experience is motivated to nurture that very "ennui", a sense of humility is kicking in. i am not anything i think i am, want to be, or need to be. my values are choking me because i cannot live up to them. i will never be empathic no matter how hard i strive. i'll always only be interested in appearing perfect, accordingly.
and today i lay down with my rage that i've already shut down from today, interested in conceiving the belief that life *is* a living hell. i forgive myself for laying down for hours. i feel halfway safe in my bedroom. i forgive myself for beginning many sentences with the word "i", not that i know what "i" even means. considering i don't experience in the first person.  i forgive myself for not attending to all the things i tried to not promise myself i was going to attend to today. my paranoia is being really weird.....it feels like everyone ever is attacking me from an unconscious place. and hypothetically, if they are, it's unconscious- henceforth, totally forgivable.
i thank myself for what i have given. even what i have held onto is a gift, you know...change is the sole constant. holding onto things forever is way illusory.