i haven't written because the novelty has worn off. it wears off everything in the end. i meant to write daily as a personal writing/ therapy project...i was hoping it would suddenly turn into a feel good american or cheap British budget movie where i would be enlightened and find some answers and a rosy glow would take over and i wouldn't still feel like i am tied to a train track with a fast train roaring towards me but never actually reaching me. just roaring towards me.
it must be something in the water.
every day starts to become the same, the daily plights repeat on themselves and the memories twist into the fading present.
okay i may have some issues here. i may infact just be of the ilk that can never just get on with things and be content and happy. i don't really know any more. i have discovered that i am a truly emotional person, in that i respond to the nuances of inspiration and positive experience and unclouded emotion. my confidence balances on a see saw of never nevers.
i am truly fucked. my see saw just will not steady enough for me to just get the fuck on with things.
sometimes i feel like a total misfit.
its ok on here. i am anonymous.
just carved red paint through a shit still life of flowers i painted.
looks much better now.
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