n. the moment you realize that you’re currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it’s little more than an aftertaste.
(Source: dictionaryofobscuresorrows, via distractedly)
I think I’m okay.
I should be better than okay on the eve of my trip, but it is my tendency to panic before such things so I suppose I’m doing as well as could be expected.
I don’t think I’m forgetting anything of crucial import, my room is in a decent state, and I hope not to fail too badly at training tomorrow.
I will enjoy the next week. I hope.
Or at least the company I plan to keep.
Inhale. Exhale. Don’t hyperventilate.
Focus. I got this.
Everything is under control.
Live a little.
Don’t fret too much.
Don’t count every penny, but don’t spend every penny either.
I try to function, but sometime my ability to do so is greatly diminished.
Mayhaps one day I’ll figure out how to stop it from doing that.
It is also hard to express how much I hate being treated like a small child by my parents.
I’ve gotten into so little trouble in my life it is pathetic.
Why can’t the finally trust my fucking judgement?
(And I won’t even get into how of all people, my stepmother has no fucking right to say any of the stuff she says to me.)
I’m not sure if there exist words to describe how lucky I am to have the friends I have.
I’ve been losing myself in music, in words, in everything I can possibly lose myself in.
My language grows more formal, more distant, more precise.
Too many things have happened, too many emotional investments made and lost.
I wonder if I can be certain about anything about myself, about anything I feel.
Regrets, but not regrets.
I’m glad of what has passed, but not glad of what it says about me.
How can I be sure that I am different, if it is all so recent?
If I changed so much in a year, who will I be a year from now?
Am I just that inconsistent? Or have I just gone back to being whom I’ve always been?
I want certainty, but I do not have it.
But I suppose what I have is enough.
Being someone once doesn’t mean being them forever.
One can choose whom one becomes.
I mustn’t forget that, mustn’t wallow in self-pity and loss and self-blame.
I will read a book this week, and walk the dog and take a hike.
I will become a better person not because I dislike myself, but because I make myself even better.
I will stop putting myself down and saying things I don’t mean and I will do what I want because I can.
Or perhaps I’ll fail at all of that and be precisely the same as I’ve ever been, or worse.
But at the very least, I’ll have given it a shot.
I’ll have given it all I’ve got.
I’m not sure why the words came today, when they haven’t come in so long.
I’m not sure why so many times, I just sit there and type and delete and type and delete.
But today, I just type and type and type and the words pour out onto the screen and even though I’m not thrilled with them, I don’t hate them either.
Meaningless meandering, perhaps. But I am managing to express my ideas in a way that makes sense to me. And that is sufficient.
I’m going to be okay, I think.
I admire the ability to improve oneself.
I have done so to some degree, but I will do so further.
Words to keep inside your pocket:
- Quiescent - a quiet, soft-spoken soul.
- Chimerical - merely imaginary; fanciful.
- Susurrus - a whispering or rustling sound.
- Raconteur - one who excels in story-telling.
- Clinquant - glittering; tinsel-like.
- Aubade - a song greeting the dawn.
- Ephemeral - lasting a very short time.
- Sempiternal - everlasting; eternal.
- Euphonious - pleasing; sweet in sound.
- Billet-doux - a love letter.
- Redamancy - act of loving in return.
(via formyevann)
Crossing my fingers and waiting in nervous anticipation to hear back about my job.
Once I have it, if I have it, everything will officially be perfect. Or far better than I have any right to expect things to be.
I acquired a Twitter, but I can’t bring myself to try and keep my thoughts down to the word limit. Acquiring one seemed like a good idea for a brief duration, but I doubt I shall do more with this one than I did with my prior one.
I don’t know, I guess I’m just too verbose.
I’m suddenly saddened again.
I guess it’s the sleep deprivation kicking in. I really need to stop being incapable of sleep, it’s getting annoying.
I have a feeling that my speech patterns are in some way reflective of my underlying mood patterns.
