Questions & Answers...kind of
Why does everything feel so bland after tragedy? It’s like the colour has suddenly disappeared and you’re left as this sunken version of your previously full self.
I sound like a badly written John Green book.
It’s more like the song that was stuck in your head from an hour ago (which is still playing in a continuous loop) meant something before but the words and meaning just...don’t make sense anymore. Nothing really does. Funny, it’s like my brain is on auto-pilot.
Why am I so goddamn humble? I’m looking at life through lenses of possibility and opportunities and so much fucking abundance. I’m rarely like this. I signed up for therapy yesterday, for fuck’s sake. My brain is clearly programmed to not appreciate my blessings.
What is the point? Everything’s the point. Literally everything. Family, friends, the people you love and support. Even the people you occasionally stalk on social media because they’re great content creators. Double-tap. They deserve a like. Everyone deserves all the likes. Except the people that fucked you over. I get positivity and peace and all that crap, but screw them. I may be humble but I’m still a petty fuck.
Why is the weather so shitty? It’s only shitty if you refuse to change your mind about the rain. Warmth is the best (and only) feeling I’ve known but I highly doubt the pumpkin I repotted is going to grow in never-ending sunshine. Also, mentally inserting that middle school quote about sunshine and hurricane we all used to caption our pictures with.
Systems don’t make sense anymore. Constructs seem meaningless. I don’t want to be a bi-something, size XS/S/M/whateverthefuck, NRI/not really, female specimen anymore. I want to be nothing. I, in fact, am nothing.
That sounded an awful lot like a revelation after a psychedelic. Could tragedy induce the same effects as psychedelics? I could write a thesis on this...if I decide to do Masters (which is, again, a system that I’m losing faith in by the second).
I’m feeling humble. And grateful. And sad. I think looking at your baby pictures is super humbling...and slightly narcissistic. I don’t mind being anything right now, though. Call me what you want to.
Welcome to my brain dump.
