Does it feel as though time is slipping by at an ever-increasing rate? I think I was cheated out of a weekend. It’s almost as though it didn’t even happen.
Man, the more I think about that the less fair I think the universe is. Time only drags by when you need it to go fast. This is a rule without exception. And time, likewise, slips by when you want it to cling. It’s the only commodity you get in spades only if you don’t want it. Fairness has clearly been considered here, and unfairness used as the basis by which the entire concept is built.
I feel more tired these days. Physically, emotionally, intellectually, I don’t really know any other ways to be tired but I’m sure if they exist I’ll be feeling them shortly.
I haven’t felt compelled to write lately. A large portion of that stems from the fact that I can’t think of anything to write. It’s normally a decent sort of therapy to just spew emotions into the ether. I don’t know that I necessarily don’t have anything to write, but more that I will write something and feel conflicted about whether what I just wrote is even adequate for what I’m trying to express. Lately the case is more often than not, it gets erased. I’ve probably written half the bible only to erase it directly after, that’s just about how bad it’s been. It’s kind of driving me nuts.
But it also makes sense. Like trying to make sense of the complicated relationship I’ve had with my mother; that’s not something I can really do in a blog post. It’s something I would try to write about, because it’s something I should probably try to emotionally process- But I also have no idea where to even begin.
I’d like to write about my dad’s family and the bullshit I grew up in, but it’s not a simple or short story.
I dunno. There’s a lot to process and not many handy tools available.