i was crushed by the weight of my own ego

life continues at a slow pace. i’ve been waking up at 5 every morning for the last coupla weeks, and staying up late, so the days just freaking drag on and on. i’ve been a little sad lately. i wouldn’t call it depressed. just kind of down. i’m a boat with no rudder, listless, directionless, just floatin’.

brent is travelling to the east coast in a few weeks, to stay at an airbnb and work his new job, basically until we find a house. the realness of moving is slowly setting in. though i still haven’t told my dad. i just don’t know how to. do i just pretend like it’s a mere possibility, introduce the idea slowly, or do i reveal the info immediately the next time i talk to him?

he will take it like bad news. he doesn’t see it from my perspective, he’s not that empathetic. he doesn’t see it as an opportunity. to start anew, to get a new outlook on things. he doesn’t see how much of a rut i’m in. it’s a new place, pretty different. it’s exciting. he will just see the glaringly obvious fact that i’m moving farther away. i get it. i’m a little sad about it too, but every time i visit him, i don’t feel at home anyway. i have no place there. when i’m there, everyone’s life goes on and mine is just at a standstill. everyone’s at work or school or (on the weekends,) living it up on the stupid boat getting mildly drunk and socializing (neither of which am i crazy about).

thomas will be going to KU soon, and will be even busier. so when i go there i will feel even less at home, less of a connection.

idk what to think, as usual. i’ve been trying to get out of some bad habits lately, like consuming vast amounts of caffeine in every form possible, but i fear i will sink into worse habits if i give up my current vices.

i’m an all or nothing person, soo i tend to go a little overboard when i do things. like trying to eat more balanced. i don’t do balanced. i feel like i either eat too much or nothing at all. i play it down for the general public, but when i was younger i had an eating disorder.

i was hospitalized for a few weeks in the kind of place that takes away your shoelaces so you aren’t tempted to string yourself up. it’s a bit of a blur, but i remember sitting with a nutritionist, crying while i ate. lol. it was considered an atypical eating disorder, as it was more like a bad habit of not eating, that i sank deep into until eating became to seem unnecessary, a chore. i also rarely drank anything, so before i was hospitalized i would go in once a week for liquids through an IV.

anyway, the point of this little trip down memory lane is that i am afraid of falling back into old habits like that. the overall point of this rambling is that change and balance are freaking hard af.

the flags are all dead at the top of their poles

we say we’re not like them, but we love a good martyr too. we love a mindless, senseless patriot. someone willing to kill, die, or end up an empty shell for the interests of the governing body and its allies. oh, america. how you ache at the cognitive dissonance of it all. what the hell happened? you were never what you said you were.

there’re two ducks, a male and female, that hang around the house. they like to eat the dried mealworms my mom mixes into the birdseed she puts outside. ducks are cute. they come waddling up, and we make sure not to go outside and disturb them. it’s like a little wildlife refuge, despite being in the middle of town. we get deer that eat from the birdfeeder on our porch, a raccoon that eats the cat food we leave out for stray cats, two squirrels, a chipmunk, a big fat rabbit and one little, young rabbit. so many animals. i love watching them.

one of my fond memories from my childhood is from my grandma’s house, where i’d stay occasionally, especially after my grandfather died. i’d sit in her little sitting area, the windows crowded with flora like jade plants and cacti and geraniums, and at sunset i’d watch the deer through binoculars as they came out of the woods to eat corn my grandma left out for them.

she had two huge gardens. i’d wander through them and the woods, pretending i lived out there. i even built a fort out of tree branches. it was pretty neat.

this was in minnesota, and my grandma had a lady slipper flower, which is actually minnesota’s state flower and so illegal to pick or uproot, and i’m pretty sure she uprooted it at some point to have it. she gave my mother the habit of carrying a shovel in the trunk of the car in case there was something good growing on the side of the road, like wild asparagus or something “fun” like that, haha.

she moved to a smaller place and sold her house way back in 2015. seems like it was just a few months ago.

i remember her yelling at me and my brother for climbing trees on her property. lol she was afraid we would scuff up the branches, not afraid for our safety.

i miss minnesota. the land of 10,000 lakes. the star of the north. i say it a lot, but it’s a great place.

 

 

pavane for a dead princess

i always wanted the world to be a place of clean righteousness. a place of slick simplicity. the cities clean, the forest quaint, the hills protecting and the mountains bastions of good. all the lakes and rivers and seas, just lilting pools of tranquility, blah blah blah.

i wanted things to be easy and quick and painless, life to be not about regression and aggression but peace and progression. is perfection so much to expect, to wish for? well, duh, yup, i know i’m petty and naive in my heart of hearts..

but for reals, here in my mind:

even the beauty, i associate it with discomfort, with pain, with suffering. all things come at a cost, even if it’s just something as untouchable as time. all things decay, all the greats fade to skeletons of their former selves. we are all unworthy of this great march that is life.

true quiet would drive us all mad, so there is this cacophony.

true peace is unattainable, we shall all sleep when we are dead.

catching things and eating their insides

ever hear the story of the frog and the scorpion? it is my favorite story. so simple, but it means so much to me. that and the quote “a million enemies outside the house are better than one within.” i heard that quote when i was 8 and thought of it literally, and thought it was so wise. because i was used to enemies in my own house. im a twistd one. i really thought about it the other day while i’ve been avoiding thinking about it. i still don’t know what exactly i think about it. it’s a dilemma. fo sho. do i accept the fuckupedness of my nature or do i try to overcome it, wipe it out, nip it in the bud? can people change? winston churchill was an interesting guy. he loved butterflies and once nursed a fox kit back to health with his wife. but then again he served in the military and was recorded to have shot a few men in the face. AREN’T PEOPLE SPECIAL?????????????