Write and wrong
I feel that if you are stuck in one situation for too long then you run out of things to say about it. I have nothing to say. I've said it all. Change breeds insight, so what breeds change? Whatever it is I need to find some of it.
I can't take my current state of being anymore. I've done the depressed thing for far too long. Time for a new phase. But how do I reach it, short of medication? I've reach the point of acceptance or as close to that point as Zeno says I can.
If all else fails then what succeeds? I can't keep riding this roller coaster of supreme conceit and ultimate self loathing. I don't think I am tall enough be on this ride in the first place, at least not tall enough in character.
I think the problem is that I've created this character that I feel that I have to play. I've gotten such rave reviews that I don't want to audition an new one only to have it panned by the critics. Maybe if there were more stages in Shakespeare's breakdown of stages then I wouldn't be stuck in this one for so long.
Does everyone get tired of being themselves? Of putting on the smile when that is what is expected. I can't do it anymore. It takes too much out of me.
I'm starting to get sick. I feel a bit of a fever coming on. Everytime I get sick I get excited. Hoping that maybe I will sweat out whatever phase I am in. Then when my fever breaks so do my habits. That literary notion that to get something/someone out of your system you have to come near to death in order to truly live again. I know, I need to stop looking to Jane Austen to solve my problems. I need to come to my sense and sensibility.
Snap out of it. A broker said that the reflection of the blind string in the window makes it look like there is a crack in the window. My thought was: "It's not the window that is about to crack."
Today the phone calls are driving me mad. If I hear on more stupid beep they are going to need a beep to sound over what I am going to say. Well, the moral of the story is that I need help getting out of this box I am trapped in. Someone let me know if they have discovered where the trap door is. I know this must be an illusion and not just my delusion.
I can't take my current state of being anymore. I've done the depressed thing for far too long. Time for a new phase. But how do I reach it, short of medication? I've reach the point of acceptance or as close to that point as Zeno says I can.
If all else fails then what succeeds? I can't keep riding this roller coaster of supreme conceit and ultimate self loathing. I don't think I am tall enough be on this ride in the first place, at least not tall enough in character.
I think the problem is that I've created this character that I feel that I have to play. I've gotten such rave reviews that I don't want to audition an new one only to have it panned by the critics. Maybe if there were more stages in Shakespeare's breakdown of stages then I wouldn't be stuck in this one for so long.
Does everyone get tired of being themselves? Of putting on the smile when that is what is expected. I can't do it anymore. It takes too much out of me.
I'm starting to get sick. I feel a bit of a fever coming on. Everytime I get sick I get excited. Hoping that maybe I will sweat out whatever phase I am in. Then when my fever breaks so do my habits. That literary notion that to get something/someone out of your system you have to come near to death in order to truly live again. I know, I need to stop looking to Jane Austen to solve my problems. I need to come to my sense and sensibility.
Snap out of it. A broker said that the reflection of the blind string in the window makes it look like there is a crack in the window. My thought was: "It's not the window that is about to crack."
Today the phone calls are driving me mad. If I hear on more stupid beep they are going to need a beep to sound over what I am going to say. Well, the moral of the story is that I need help getting out of this box I am trapped in. Someone let me know if they have discovered where the trap door is. I know this must be an illusion and not just my delusion.
posted by Whit at 2:19 PM
1 Comments:
Whit...I'm a huge fan of your writing.
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