time is no longer a flat circle and we are trapped in an elongated sphere of hell
dear readers (who am i kidding, who reads this -- but my brain interprets this platform as an audience and so some greeting must be present because it's been months since i last wrote anything in here, and it's like breaking an awkward silence) -- the protagonist of this blog (Me) is dealing with a Broken Heart.
ugh. i can't even be vulnerable about it without having it purposefully come off as a little cringe to downplay how deeply i feel, yet how i don't feel like i have the words to articulate what i'm truly feeling. whenever people try to check in and ask me how i'm feeling, i don't truly know. and if i do know, maybe there's a part of me that hides that, doesn't want to continue to face more rejection if i open up and how i'm feeling is downplayed. after all, my partner didn't want to work things out before ending the relationship, and the only feeling that reverberates through my body is that My Problems And My Needs Are What Push Other People Away From Me Or Make Them Need To Draw A Boundary On Supporting Me Because I Perceive I Am Draining On Their Resources So I Really Just Need To Figure This All Out Myself And It Will Finally Feel Like My Presence Is Not A Burden On Anyone.
oh, don't get me wrong, there is no SI embedded in here. i'm fully aware of the privileges and luxuries i enjoy with getting to live on my own in a place like the City. i watch death and Other Horrible Things happen on a portable screen that feeds me engineered content to flatten my brain. for all those who have needlessly passed from the violence enacted in the world by the land i live on, the least i can do is Stay The Fuck Alive Even If You Feel Like A Piece Of Shit For Knowing Better But Not Doing Better. i'm supposed to think back to Me, 5, 10, 15 years ago, even, feel proud of where i am -- but if i could communicate with me 15 years ago, i would have said, "this world is in trouble", and maybe i would feel differently today, would make different choices, would have found my voice sooner, instead of struggling to do so now, though materially stable, but so far from the dreams i once held so tight, my plans to get away from suburban dwelling while balancing familial expectations that may have just been a craft of my own doing.
when i talk about My Ex, i'm careful to choose my words, and in the extra time it takes to do so, i completely hide from myself what i really mean to say. by the time my mouth opens the words have dissipated into the atmosphere. Everyone Has Experienced This Before And You Are Not Unique In This So Life Will Move On Whatever That Means.
when i talk about My Ex, i give myself an A in emotional composure in public.
the day after i talk about My Ex, i'm exhausted but can't cry until i roll a few joints because i am so far from how i feel these days.
what does the title of this post mean? if you've read some of my incoherent ramblings before, you may remember i wrote a few despair-filled posts (ha -- again with the jokes, i'm only at home with despair) with the theme that things in life continue to crop up again until they're addressed in a different light. always a positive spin, an opportunity to Know Better, Do Better. but that only occurs for one particular thought or situation in isolation, a variable to control for in the overall system, the science experiment. in reality, all of those circles of time are superimposed for all different patterns in life, forever moving, since it would only be in equilibrium if you were dead. when everything's stacked on top of each other, and the size of the rings would depend on their frequency... that makes sense, right? you can order them by size. everyone's got their own personal elongated sphere of hell. Very Fun!
my therapist noted my difficulties with relationships (yes, even personal and professional) and encouraged me to seek out things for myself. but it pains me to say this, and i don't know how else, but i don't always see myself outside of a context that isn't relational to another person. when i'm alone, i exist in standby mode, which looks like sitting in a chair, smoking joints, it's silent (just what i wanted before) -- and i can't even enjoy it. the sunset settled into my windows and all i could think about was how i wished it were winter with its 4 pm night skies, in bed by 6, asleep by 2, anxiously up at 9.