Clued in and Glued in

I can say one thing—chick’s head’s screwed on a bit tighter these days. There was a long expanse of time ending really on Monday full of strife and pain, the fucking worst in despair. I could not talk during this time, hence my lengthy silence. I literally had nothing to say, nothing good at all, and nothing worth commenting on, so I stayed silent, dreaming. I get like this sometimes, and these are the times, those moments, where I feel like I might die a thousand percent alone, with nobody ever really getting me at all, let alone wanting to get anything at all. These are the times I start doubting me, knowing I don’t even make sense to me and I don’t even try to get it when I’m out of whack, so how can I possibly expect anyone else to tackle the riddle?

My out of balance hormones can cause me to be super self deprecating and there is literally nothing I can do correctly, no matter how much convincing I try on me. I decide I deserve nothing good and I start to think irrational thoughts about dying…Not that I would ever do anything, mind you, but I understand how easy it is to get thrown over the damn edge with almost no impetus. Well, a real lack of something to necessitate a literal breaking point. I think terrible ends for myself when I am on that edge, and it’s really nothing I would ever do, but I feel so fucking bad that I just want it to stop, and I consider every means to make it so.

This is the thing, though. And why I would never irrationally think I was at the end. I could never say goodbye to the opportunity to go new places, meet new people and do new things. Even doing the same things with different people and different places is enough to keep me vested. It’s all people, and the experience…Life is a sweet and beautiful thing. It shouldn’t be wasted for a few off moments…

Everything has an end anyways. I mean, good times and bad, there are ends to everything we experience because I believe life is forever changing and there is nothing permanent in any suffering at all unless you choose that for yourself. You can easily change your reality I feel, with just a flip of your mind, and my mind has been triggered awake doing yoga the quickest. 

Sigh. Yes. I am one of those yoga assholes. No, not exactly, but I do see its benefits. If you want me to discuss it, I totally will. If not, oh well, we can pretend it doesn’t exist for you. Because it exists for me and I am very real and I know this for me. It has nothing to do with you.

I know this is not the way to encourage positivity, seriousness and beauty referring to myself as a yoga asshole. I should be referring to myself as some kind of chrysalis, but that seemed to be the easiest way to wake you zombies up. I know I am not one of those yoga assholes. You’ll see. I’m all good.

And just who do I think I am to lay my issues out to you, my readers? What the fuck ever. I am well aware these thought processes are directly tied in to my hormonal balance while affected, and especially during my full moon periods, where the fair share of you are out of your damn minds, too. Don’t deny it. It’s a thousand percent true.

See, that a response born from hostility I think will result from my disclosure, so I am lashing first. Most of the time this site exists as a fantastic filter because I probably hear from maybe 10% of you dudes who read this. How many that is doesn’t necessitate a response, but it’s enough.

Tonight I went to go see The Sounds and The Limousines with these guys giving us a good intro to the night. My friend from the lonely goth High School took me as he had an extra ticket he couldn’t get rid of, and my little lonely ass had no plans for anything pre Birthday really, so I decided, sure…I’m in. Why the hell not?

It really was a fantastic show, truly. And I am so glad I went, also for the opportunity to kind of rub up against a taller gentleman standing behind me as I danced. (Thank you universe for that one!). That was kind of nice…yes, yes it was. My friend’s wife doesn’t like shows, and we grew up doing that, so it was cool for me. Especially feeling the dude next to me peering over at my friend as I kind of stood up against the dude, moving. I didn’t care. I just wish I hadn’t played so damn coy.

See, that’s all it takes sometimes. A hint of man, a whiff of something real to get my engine revved again.

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