I haven't really ever understood why I write. No I get how it's cathartic or therapeutic but why does furious punching in of the keys calm me down? Like nothing else does? Even if it is just me completely blowing things out of proportion.
Do you think there are some people that are basically dark? One of my clients asks me if she attracts negativity. If that could be true for anyone, that would be true for me. I pride myself in being the anti-midas, in how I either attract the worst or facilitate the best's transformation into the worst. I mean, that's clearly what I'm doing with myself, my body, yuck,
It's pathetic really - my ability to run so fast and fall so deep within the darkness. I think some of us just enshrine it within us - and I have been building it within for too long for it to just disappear. I think I keep visiting the haunted parts of my brain to ensure they still exist. Therapy teaches you that you can't take away someone's defence mechanisms without replacing them with something healthier first. For me that was going to be love, an unconditional, everlasting love.
After binge watching a stalker series on Netflix for ten hours straight, I do kind of worry (more than the usual) that such love doesn't exist - and if it does - it isn't healthy. I also think that I am ordinary in the most boring way - fear of loneliness does creep its way into my bones even though I am so fucking good at hiding out alone. I could be with you for years and you won't really know me - I keep a part of me always hidden and as soon as you begin to see the hidden bits, I create more and more walls, barriers, obstacles to always keep me protected.
I said, it feels like there's oceans between me and you - but I create these oceans. And now I speak directly to you. Do you even know who you are? I don't. You're an amalgamation of all my pain and pleasure - all my lovers - ex and present - all my friends - if there ever were any to begin with - my family - my conscience (was I born with one?) - you, this voice in my head, I don't know you who are.
A shapeshifter.
This year is ending, thank god. I can't take any more of this voice in my head. It keeps telling me everything I have ever done wrong. I can't shake the feeling of being a horrible person. Ugly, fat, incompetent, and just plain horrible. I build it up to burn it down. Always.
Do you think there are some people that are basically dark? One of my clients asks me if she attracts negativity. If that could be true for anyone, that would be true for me. I pride myself in being the anti-midas, in how I either attract the worst or facilitate the best's transformation into the worst. I mean, that's clearly what I'm doing with myself, my body, yuck,
It's pathetic really - my ability to run so fast and fall so deep within the darkness. I think some of us just enshrine it within us - and I have been building it within for too long for it to just disappear. I think I keep visiting the haunted parts of my brain to ensure they still exist. Therapy teaches you that you can't take away someone's defence mechanisms without replacing them with something healthier first. For me that was going to be love, an unconditional, everlasting love.
After binge watching a stalker series on Netflix for ten hours straight, I do kind of worry (more than the usual) that such love doesn't exist - and if it does - it isn't healthy. I also think that I am ordinary in the most boring way - fear of loneliness does creep its way into my bones even though I am so fucking good at hiding out alone. I could be with you for years and you won't really know me - I keep a part of me always hidden and as soon as you begin to see the hidden bits, I create more and more walls, barriers, obstacles to always keep me protected.
I said, it feels like there's oceans between me and you - but I create these oceans. And now I speak directly to you. Do you even know who you are? I don't. You're an amalgamation of all my pain and pleasure - all my lovers - ex and present - all my friends - if there ever were any to begin with - my family - my conscience (was I born with one?) - you, this voice in my head, I don't know you who are.
A shapeshifter.
This year is ending, thank god. I can't take any more of this voice in my head. It keeps telling me everything I have ever done wrong. I can't shake the feeling of being a horrible person. Ugly, fat, incompetent, and just plain horrible. I build it up to burn it down. Always.
