Today Danielle commented on her Facebook that it felt like her thoughts had been through a salad spinner. How brilliantly and aptly put. I think my heart and mind have been through the salad spinner.
I'm all mixed up, and churned, and turned around. I feel like there's so much to mull that I could burst! And EMOTIONS? Forget it. Emotions make thinking about stuff a real fucking chore, huh? And a treacherous adventure. Because emotions are kinda fuckholes, aren't they? I often wish that I could be absent emotion altogether.
Of course, rationally and realistically, I understand that most of what makes me ME is the welling spring of emotion. I'm Beth and my emotions runneth over my huge fucking cup. That's who I am, it's what I do, it's how I navigate the world and respond to it. It is part of what makes me an artist and a creative soul.
But jesus. Sometime I wish I'd been an accountant. With Asphergers.
I love fully and completely. I love fiercely and with my whole being. I care deeply, I lay myself out ther without reservation. And without regret. Only sometimes? I feel twinges akin to regret before I squash them and remind myself that I DON'T LIVE WITH REGRETS. I recategorize those twinges of 'wow, I wish I hadn't done\said\acte like that...' and shrug them off and move the fuck on.
We only get this one life, right? So what if I make a complete ass out of myself, so long as my motivatiuon was pure and my intent was never, ever to hurt another person. Oh, Polonius, I try every day, but sometimes it's real fucking tricky to be tru to thine ownself when one hasn't a fucking clue as to whom thine ownself could be!!!
Am I this? Am I That? Do I want this, or that? Can't I has both, please? Labels don't quite fit on me, and while my teenaged self reveled in this intensely unique and original state of being, my late twenties self is beginning to feel self-conscious about her other-ness, her existence apart and adrift. It isn't as precocious anymore, it isn't as precious to defy the mainstream on fundamental issues and habits and tendencies and preferences.
Ug. And It turns out I kinda can't stand myself most days! Wtf is that? Somedays, don't get me wrong, I fucking love me. I think I'm the bee's goddamn knees and all that jazz, the cat's PJ's etc, but most days? I just try to ignore my self and make due-- like an annoying roomate you are forced to live with. Lol. I drive me nuts, but hey, what can you do?
Like this blog, for example. Gag me. So many people have blogs WORTH reading. Entertaining, insightful, FUNNY. I have one of those posts every once in a blue moon. Most days? They're like this. All internal contemplation and irrevernt silliness and WASTE OF TIME AND SPACE!
And I'm not sure I want to keep it up. I don't know. Obviously half of me wants it. The other half asks: What the fuck good has it done you? And don't give me that bullshit about 'finding your voice', that's bullshit. It sounds good, and it might be true for many, but you? You, Beth? Take a peek back and tell me what sort of 'voice' has emerged? Any clarity forthcoming? And deep spiritual revelation? Any closer to having your life on track or your shit together or your stars aligned? Nope. Just a bunch of posts whining about some drama or other, or a buncha posts about fun sex, and a handful of posts that could pass as funny. Oh, and let's not even start on what kind of 'Voice' you've developed with this shit fiction that you practically have to beg people to read. Jesus, Beth, way to waste like, a half year of your life. Years are thinning, you know. How about if you want a family you work a little harder on getting those proverbial ducks in a row, instead of sitting around daydreaming and bitching and moping and wondering 'what if' and passing judgement on others.
Yeah.
My other half is a real bitch. Have you met her? She's a wicked meanie, and not super fun to live with. But that doesn't automatically invalidate her opinions and her stern advice.
I need to re-evaluate my priorities. Get myself situated. I think I need to stop playing kid games and start living the life befitting a grown woman. I know I have no regrets and all? But I dunno. I'm feeling something over here, something that stings and prickles and brings tears to the eye.
I shouldn't be allowed to take baths. Too much time alone with my thoughts gets me morose like a bitter drunk with some hard liquor! Jesus.
How about some positivity to wrap up this blog endeavor?
I had coffee with two wonderful ladies today. They are both amazing and inspirational. I love them to pieces and my heart swells whenever I get to spend time with them.
And This afternoon my Brother and Sister and neices came over for dinner! It was their first time ever seeing the apartment, and it is always fun to show off a place we adore so completely.
And my husband is fantastic. I'm the luckiest woman in the whole world. He is supportive, and kind, and funny, and warm, and emotionally available, and understanding, and infinitely patient, and hung, and lol. I know that last one shouldn't matter. But it's worth a mention, lol. And he's my best friend in the whole world and he's my partner, and he's my soul mate, and he'll always be my big romance.
Maybe I'll see you around? Once in a while? No more of this daily bullshit.
And god knows what will happen to the CF endeavor. I believe it shall languish until it perishes from starvation. Some mother I'd make.
Now to spend time in the real world.
It's been fun!
Ciao!
I'm all mixed up, and churned, and turned around. I feel like there's so much to mull that I could burst! And EMOTIONS? Forget it. Emotions make thinking about stuff a real fucking chore, huh? And a treacherous adventure. Because emotions are kinda fuckholes, aren't they? I often wish that I could be absent emotion altogether.
Of course, rationally and realistically, I understand that most of what makes me ME is the welling spring of emotion. I'm Beth and my emotions runneth over my huge fucking cup. That's who I am, it's what I do, it's how I navigate the world and respond to it. It is part of what makes me an artist and a creative soul.
But jesus. Sometime I wish I'd been an accountant. With Asphergers.
I love fully and completely. I love fiercely and with my whole being. I care deeply, I lay myself out ther without reservation. And without regret. Only sometimes? I feel twinges akin to regret before I squash them and remind myself that I DON'T LIVE WITH REGRETS. I recategorize those twinges of 'wow, I wish I hadn't done\said\acte like that...' and shrug them off and move the fuck on.
We only get this one life, right? So what if I make a complete ass out of myself, so long as my motivatiuon was pure and my intent was never, ever to hurt another person. Oh, Polonius, I try every day, but sometimes it's real fucking tricky to be tru to thine ownself when one hasn't a fucking clue as to whom thine ownself could be!!!
Am I this? Am I That? Do I want this, or that? Can't I has both, please? Labels don't quite fit on me, and while my teenaged self reveled in this intensely unique and original state of being, my late twenties self is beginning to feel self-conscious about her other-ness, her existence apart and adrift. It isn't as precocious anymore, it isn't as precious to defy the mainstream on fundamental issues and habits and tendencies and preferences.
Ug. And It turns out I kinda can't stand myself most days! Wtf is that? Somedays, don't get me wrong, I fucking love me. I think I'm the bee's goddamn knees and all that jazz, the cat's PJ's etc, but most days? I just try to ignore my self and make due-- like an annoying roomate you are forced to live with. Lol. I drive me nuts, but hey, what can you do?
Like this blog, for example. Gag me. So many people have blogs WORTH reading. Entertaining, insightful, FUNNY. I have one of those posts every once in a blue moon. Most days? They're like this. All internal contemplation and irrevernt silliness and WASTE OF TIME AND SPACE!
And I'm not sure I want to keep it up. I don't know. Obviously half of me wants it. The other half asks: What the fuck good has it done you? And don't give me that bullshit about 'finding your voice', that's bullshit. It sounds good, and it might be true for many, but you? You, Beth? Take a peek back and tell me what sort of 'voice' has emerged? Any clarity forthcoming? And deep spiritual revelation? Any closer to having your life on track or your shit together or your stars aligned? Nope. Just a bunch of posts whining about some drama or other, or a buncha posts about fun sex, and a handful of posts that could pass as funny. Oh, and let's not even start on what kind of 'Voice' you've developed with this shit fiction that you practically have to beg people to read. Jesus, Beth, way to waste like, a half year of your life. Years are thinning, you know. How about if you want a family you work a little harder on getting those proverbial ducks in a row, instead of sitting around daydreaming and bitching and moping and wondering 'what if' and passing judgement on others.
Yeah.
My other half is a real bitch. Have you met her? She's a wicked meanie, and not super fun to live with. But that doesn't automatically invalidate her opinions and her stern advice.
I need to re-evaluate my priorities. Get myself situated. I think I need to stop playing kid games and start living the life befitting a grown woman. I know I have no regrets and all? But I dunno. I'm feeling something over here, something that stings and prickles and brings tears to the eye.
I shouldn't be allowed to take baths. Too much time alone with my thoughts gets me morose like a bitter drunk with some hard liquor! Jesus.
How about some positivity to wrap up this blog endeavor?
I had coffee with two wonderful ladies today. They are both amazing and inspirational. I love them to pieces and my heart swells whenever I get to spend time with them.
And This afternoon my Brother and Sister and neices came over for dinner! It was their first time ever seeing the apartment, and it is always fun to show off a place we adore so completely.
And my husband is fantastic. I'm the luckiest woman in the whole world. He is supportive, and kind, and funny, and warm, and emotionally available, and understanding, and infinitely patient, and hung, and lol. I know that last one shouldn't matter. But it's worth a mention, lol. And he's my best friend in the whole world and he's my partner, and he's my soul mate, and he'll always be my big romance.
Maybe I'll see you around? Once in a while? No more of this daily bullshit.
And god knows what will happen to the CF endeavor. I believe it shall languish until it perishes from starvation. Some mother I'd make.
Now to spend time in the real world.
It's been fun!
Ciao!
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2 comments:
can't be all serious ALL the time, can we?!
ya i don't know if quitting the blog and CF is the answer
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