Also learnt that I’m diffident this afternoon.
Feeling guilty that I’m not out there enjoying the weather. Fact is I kinda wanna chill chez moi, and that’s all that matters really - what I wanna do.
Whut shall I eat todaaaay? Pasta? Pasta! Pasta it isssssss.
i’ve spoken to my Dad every day for the last week - heck these last two weeks, haven’t had this happen since I was 18. It takes getting used to once, twice a week to everyday. Blessed I guess. Thankful. Tangible distance ay….
Pain versus suffering. Oh so poignant.
I can apprehend the notion that life begins at the end of the comfort zone,
And as much as I desire to step outside of all that I’ve ever been prone to holding on to as common, the usual…
Despite the numerous moments I can count, point to even, as examples of my ambition to live on life’s edge, to abandon the mundane, that with which I am accustomed and kick static repose to the farthest twinklings of my disposition….
I just can’t seem to grapple with, to grasp hold consistently of that ability. Inertness consumes me, giving flight only to intermittent spurts of action.
Practice, perhaps? Embracing, instead of pushing away all the trappings that accompany life outside the familiar bubble. Who knows.
Eventually they said,
finally she decided,
besides herself with disdain,
directed at me, lip curled at him,
but she blamed him not,
non the wiser,
and so unrequited were her mute affections,
her mind and heart writhing,
while girls dote, she sat stuck on her imperfections,
but enough! Rationale declared,
he owes you not a thing,
and you’re wreaking havoc on your psyche, what is it even to like,
To create a literary or visually-translated opus is my life’s ambition.