Despite my days being dictated to me, I’ve realized I’m fully aware of it. At least I have that.
I’ve tried to schedule, journal, organize myself into a plan. A regiment that ensures my success and gives hope to my future. On paper at least. As soon as I think I’ve got it all figured out, reality swiftly reminds me that is clearly not the case. It’s ok, I’ve actually become used to this. At least I’m coming to (some kind of) terms of accepting it.
What’s the point in fighting the natural rhythm of things, of the self? Why ignore what is obvious when it stares me in the face every day. I require, I need. Better yet, I demand to be heard. That ‘I’ has yet to lift it’s encasement of requirements. I must do this. When I don’t, well its as though all the children I never had, come to make sure I know they’ve been ignored. It hurts, it’s usually some kind of painful. It almost always sucks.
But I’m fully aware. Well at least as much as I can be. At least I have this.
Like right now, being hungry. Really inconvenient. I’m laying here, breathing through one nostril, attempting to visualize the golden light and the grey smog. I feel comfort in that, but it won’t remove the lesson being played out. I’ve learned this yet again, yet another freaking time. I’ve written myself notes, letter upon letter of pleading sentiment. I’ve attempted to make moratoriums. It’s all just a joke. A really big one. As soon as I think I’ve got this all figured out, a swift kick in the ass will set me straight. Yet again.
But, it’s ok, I’m fully aware.
Even so… this sucks balls.