1.
This is something I've never shared with anyone. I'm not even really sure how to explain it. It's a little like an imaginary friend (or several), and a little like an alter ego (but not), or a soap opera running for 25 years in my head (it could be longer but that's where my first placeable memory starts). It's a story that runs in the back of my mind from the time I wake up to the time I go to sleep. As far as I know that's where it stops; I've never dreamed about it. The core group of characters has more or less stayed the same the entire time, but some of their names change. Other things get adjusted and adapted but the essential core of the people is the same as it's always been. Nothing really exceptional happens. They work, they socialise. People move away or join in. They develop relationships and all the things real people do, except they only exist in my head. Sometimes it moves in real time, sometimes I time travel and relive certain events. But there are no hypotheticals. This isn't a creative exercise. Whatever changes I make are permanent. No erasing and starting over. No changing my mind. I'm not even entirely sure I am the one deciding things happen.
A lot of times, it's my filter for the world. They process things, they feel things, and if I tap into them, I can feel it, too.
A few days ago, one of the core people died. (He's not the first death in 25 years, but it is rare for one of the core ones to go.) Usually there's a reason when something big changes like that. It matches up with something going on in my life and works as almost a cathartic thing, but I don't know about this one. My internal soap opera is hellbent on my grieving for this guy - and I am. He was important. His death throws the whole set up into limbo. Part of me thinks I should embrace it. Jump in and ride the emotional current to wherever it takes me. But I can't. It's like I'm in one of those glass boxes filled with water, and I can't see the edges so I just go along until my little boat bumps into a wall and knocks me back, and I'm just stuck in here, where, you know, it is calm and okay. There aren't any big waves, just some light splashes when I reach the perimeter. But that's all there is. Just this boat, and this whatever and blank whiteness all around, and I want out.
2.
A smart person would've expected some effect from upping my meds. Me, I was totally shocked to wake up with my head feeling like a weighted balloon.
3.
The bee symbolises productivity (go figure), attention to detail, savoring the honey of life.
Spiders are a connection between past and future, creativity.
Bit on the nose, I have to say, and while I usually appreciate your lack of subtlety, I could do without your messages dive-bombing me at my desk or hanging out by my bed.
4.
I keep thinking about the 10K I need for the beginning of May but between not smoking, yoga and adjusting my meds, my body is giving me a big fuck you.
5.
Today was a day of escapism and avoidance. But I wrote 1000 words I don't hate.
You know that's only going to justify my bad habits.
6.
I wonder if I'd have this weird relation to sleep if it absolutely didn't matter when I was asleep and when I was awake. Every time I go to sleep there's this fear that I'll sleep way beyond acceptable times (and a chance of some sunlight during certain parts of the year).
It's almost 5 am and I'm watching a movie, knowing I should be in bed 'cause normal people. But also not giving a shit because I like the way this time of day feels, except for the fact that the perfect part of the day lasts only moments. Once the sun comes up, it'll just be daytime.
This is something I've never shared with anyone. I'm not even really sure how to explain it. It's a little like an imaginary friend (or several), and a little like an alter ego (but not), or a soap opera running for 25 years in my head (it could be longer but that's where my first placeable memory starts). It's a story that runs in the back of my mind from the time I wake up to the time I go to sleep. As far as I know that's where it stops; I've never dreamed about it. The core group of characters has more or less stayed the same the entire time, but some of their names change. Other things get adjusted and adapted but the essential core of the people is the same as it's always been. Nothing really exceptional happens. They work, they socialise. People move away or join in. They develop relationships and all the things real people do, except they only exist in my head. Sometimes it moves in real time, sometimes I time travel and relive certain events. But there are no hypotheticals. This isn't a creative exercise. Whatever changes I make are permanent. No erasing and starting over. No changing my mind. I'm not even entirely sure I am the one deciding things happen.
A lot of times, it's my filter for the world. They process things, they feel things, and if I tap into them, I can feel it, too.
A few days ago, one of the core people died. (He's not the first death in 25 years, but it is rare for one of the core ones to go.) Usually there's a reason when something big changes like that. It matches up with something going on in my life and works as almost a cathartic thing, but I don't know about this one. My internal soap opera is hellbent on my grieving for this guy - and I am. He was important. His death throws the whole set up into limbo. Part of me thinks I should embrace it. Jump in and ride the emotional current to wherever it takes me. But I can't. It's like I'm in one of those glass boxes filled with water, and I can't see the edges so I just go along until my little boat bumps into a wall and knocks me back, and I'm just stuck in here, where, you know, it is calm and okay. There aren't any big waves, just some light splashes when I reach the perimeter. But that's all there is. Just this boat, and this whatever and blank whiteness all around, and I want out.
2.
A smart person would've expected some effect from upping my meds. Me, I was totally shocked to wake up with my head feeling like a weighted balloon.
3.
The bee symbolises productivity (go figure), attention to detail, savoring the honey of life.
Spiders are a connection between past and future, creativity.
Bit on the nose, I have to say, and while I usually appreciate your lack of subtlety, I could do without your messages dive-bombing me at my desk or hanging out by my bed.
4.
I keep thinking about the 10K I need for the beginning of May but between not smoking, yoga and adjusting my meds, my body is giving me a big fuck you.
5.
Today was a day of escapism and avoidance. But I wrote 1000 words I don't hate.
You know that's only going to justify my bad habits.
6.
I wonder if I'd have this weird relation to sleep if it absolutely didn't matter when I was asleep and when I was awake. Every time I go to sleep there's this fear that I'll sleep way beyond acceptable times (and a chance of some sunlight during certain parts of the year).
It's almost 5 am and I'm watching a movie, knowing I should be in bed 'cause normal people. But also not giving a shit because I like the way this time of day feels, except for the fact that the perfect part of the day lasts only moments. Once the sun comes up, it'll just be daytime.
