Not fml, but fuck my brain. The endless ruminations about the future and the past; the constant search for the next place, be it near or far, the lack of closure; all of it is seriously eating any semblance of joy I was hanging onto. There’s something about the stark coldness of the new year. It feels harsh. Like playtime is over and the future is not gonna be nice. Like it would be wise to keep an eye out looking over your shoulder. I’m not a fan.
I don’t know what I want. I had such a clear picture of my life and what/who was important in it. Now it feels like that was flipped on it’s head and in it’s place is only uncertainty. How do you let go of the vision you had for most of your life? How do you digest the fact that what you want more than anything is no longer possible? What do you do if all of the options left seem sub par or worse? It’s like being super late to the dining hall in college and seeing the food that’s left; old pizza with cheese congealing into shellacked armor, soggy fries turned clear and disintegrating from grease. Everything cold and sad looking; nothing appetizing. Nothing unexpected or exciting. Nothing that gets your blood flowing. None of it fucking feels right.
I do know I can do anything, I mean, within limits. I know I have choices. But the things I really want don’t seem to be working out in my favor, and as the weeks continue to tick by, I feel like there are less and less possible options. The future feels like some cartoon monster creeping up on ghostly tip toes, ready to snatch you back just when you think you’re out of the forest; breathing down my neck and ready to pounce. I need a motherfucking valium, or 6. How to you enjoy what’s finite without sorrow? How do you say good-bye?
Sometimes giving up feels far, far easier than continuing on.