Anticipatory grief--
I'm really quite sure something bad is going to happen. In the past week I've awoken twice to a spider crawling on my wall.
I just want to not get attached to anything so that I can't get hurt by anything. Yes, I know it's too late for that. Yes, I know it's pointless to grieve the smell of a November Friday at 6 PM when it's already gotten dark.
It's pointless to grieve any of this. After all, things change, and things never stop changing. Object permanence never works in one's favor. Neither does the future, which remains entirely and wholly unpredictable.
I want to give the me of the past a violent whack on the head.
I've been looking to adopt a dog recently. The nights get too lonely when you're in desperate need of therapy, or--again--a violent whack to the head to forget about everything. I need to clean my room. I need to get outside. I need to forget about everything. In a short time, many of the people I love will be vanishing off to the four corners of the globe and I will remain wondering if these past years were a mistake. I really need a dog. I really need to mature. I really need to just grow up.
I want to escape. I want to hold this place and never let it go. I want to move to my parents' home country. I want to gather my favorite people and tell them how much I love them. I want to play piano without fearing someone will replace me.
I don't want to feel replaceable anymore. I don't know where this feeling is coming from. I don't want to be this selfish anymore.
My brother gave me his FL Studios license. It's the basic one, but it'll do.
Isn't it selfish to love? Isn't it selfish to be loved? Isn't it the most selfless one can be?
Isn't it selfish? Isn't it selfish to ask someone to wait for you so you can walk home together? Isn't it selfish to ask for a hug, to ask for some time together? Isn't it selfish to ask for anything?
Why does the word "selfish" have the word "fish" in it? Can someone who knows English etymology explain this to me?
(It's just "self-ish" isn't it? I don't know what I'm on about.)
For a while I waxed poetic solely about the days getting longer, about the light staying long enough for you to walk to someone's house. But I think it's about time to look upon the days getting shorter.
Time's running out. Again. Time's already up, though, I think. Time has already ended long ago on some of these threads. Some days when I rode shotgun, it was already dark. That will never happen again, of course it won't. You used to tear up when you looked at me. I don't want to feel replaceable anymore. I think this is a very immature mindset.
I wish I could just... like... self-apply?? But I don't think that exists for me. I'm no one special. (That would contradict everything. That would contradict nothing.) I am a mess of grief, selfishness, and cognitive dissonance. I kind of wish, as well, that I could know everything. I know that would ruin everything. But I wonder if things are already ruined as they are.
(Please, please tell me this is just like the September of last year. Please tell me things are going to get better again.)
I think a good representation of historical nonsense would be when I stood in the back of a pickup truck as it drove around the track.
That was probably just me setting up a long-term issue. I want to call it "Murphy's Gambit" because that somehow sounds funny as hell. With that night, I ensured that anything that could go wrong would go wrong. Somehow I manage to do that at every turn.
What does this even mean anymore? I can't even tell what I'm talking about.
I am going to go shopping for supplies tomorrow (today). I am going to buy an infernal amount of sticky notes. I am going to fold paper dodecahedrons until my fingers are sore. I am going to grieve you. (I already am.)