I don’t know what to do. I want to do nothing but I can’t do anything but write so let’s keep writing.
Panic. It’s nothing but panic. It’s just panic. That like, huffing in your mind, the expansive viewpoint, see your life, inhaling, it’s panic. I shouldn’t overcomplicate it. I’m panicking.
So then things like breathing and mindfulness should work.
I know how to do that.
I mean I know how to, I didn’t say I was well-practiced.
It’s like. My gripes comes from a very abstract line. I’m trying to explain something very abstract, the reason for my misery.
It’s hard to explain, like all abstract things.
It sort of goes like this. And I will make mistakes in this description. But anyway.
I come from a place. This place had resources, people, programs, situations, habits, good things I was engaged in.
And now, I’m not complaining about bad situation now just out of the blue.
Those two thoughts, juxtaposed against each other.
And I feel like shit.
I went for a walk.
Sir Hikaru Nakamura’s inspiration at work.
I have to fill out some health insurance form to reinstate it or something.
English is such an awkward language.
Why it bothers me as much as it does I don’t know though.
Hypothesis: I don’t read regularly and expand my vocabulary, so the same grammatical syntax structures and verbiage grind me down mentally.
Mom thinks reading is useless.
But I think it’s healthy.
I texted my brother asking how he’s doing, updating him on my end.
I’m at a loss for words. If you couldn’t tell, I always am.
I just want to meet some fun people to spend time with.
What do I do where do I go to fulfill that desire?
Let it happen.
THIS BLOG POST IS SHIT
FUCK IT TO DIRT AND BACK