shizukani

I’m aware that it’s likely a misguided endeavor, but I’ve been pursuing it anyway.

Such is my nature.

It’s a bit of a meme so I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but often times I’ll see someone on the street, or someone will interact with one of my socials, and before I realize it, I’ve already imagined what our lives together could be like, or a series of lustful, imaginative vignettes will flash behind my eyes in rapid succession. It’s always followed (as most of my thoughts seem to be) with a chastisement. I don’t want to think of people in such ways. At times I even feel it’s disrespectful to my par amours whoever they may be at the time, and of course not to mention, the temporary object(s) of my desire.

I think this habit started at the end of my last relationship, every damn thing I have to say or think about seems to revolve around that. It’s stubbornly become the reference point for my reality.

“I don’t ever want to do this again, so I mustn’t even entertain the thought of another. I did after all say that they would be my last, one way or another.”

It’s a ridiculous and extreme proposal I’m aware, but that does seem to be the way my mind tends to skew. Ridiculous and extreme

“and idiotic,fickle,romantic,deluded”

Ah. There they are.

I’d been thinking recently that I miss the voices that kept me company in the height of my madness. I missed becoming other people. It was useful, I’m not great at thinking logically and realistically but [redacted] was. I don’t let myself experience or express certain feelings but Carmen certainly could, etc etc.

It was a good cope. It was helpful to be crazy. Or at least to be pretending to be crazy. But if you’re pretending to be crazy to such intense and extreme degrees that it becomes your reality isn’t that in itself crazy?

I wonder if I truly am getting better. I wonder if being in the sun more often really is helping me.

Walking home from work at 1am thinking about this, I realize I’ve assumed a strange low posture. My usually halfway closed dead fish eyes are wide open, and the thoughts of violence excite me. Day dream after visceral day dream.

Walking down the street hunched over, eyes wide open and sporting a big toothy smile. From somewhere in the back of my own mind I notice my usual gait is different.

I realize I’ve slipped again into another of my faces, and it’s comforting. I’m happy they are coming back to me.

.://post script

I talked to my mother and i was fine

she sent me a picture of us together and i was fine

i’m fine