Saturday 10 September 2016

Mornin'

The mornings are the toughest, wake up to immense silence and muffled noises that makes it seem like you’re still dreaming so you have time to change your reality one last time. But you don’t, while your senses haven’t solidified the world around you already has. It’s immoveable and hurtling forward through time and space.
I feel dumb because I’m still caught up with whatever happened two seconds ago, two days ago or even (sometimes) two years ago. The magpie cawing outside the window, already flew away so why am I still thinking about how I want to strangle it?
I’m the type of person that’s never lived in the present. My existence is motivated through a promising future and I’m kept on the straight and narrow by the occasional gut-wrenching look back into the past. I haven’t had a particularly bad past, for some reason the past connotatively means pain for me. The good times are indeed, killing me.
The future is worse. In the last year my idea of the future has changed so many hundreds of times I wouldn’t have been able to recall them, unless I didn’t obsessively write down every thought in a journal. Journaling is a good technique if you want to peal the scabs off old wounds and douse yourself with vinegar. My friend is super into “retrospective” thinking, they say something about how only the best minds in the world can think backwards and forwards at the same time.
I don’t give a shit about that. I just write everything down so I don’t forget it. I guess the good thing about not living in the present is I never developed nasty addictions for long. I can turn off my sexual and physical needs at the drop of a dime (hats are for old people and I like dimes more). I can go days without eating while also easily turning off my ability to feel physical pain (ie. toe stubbings are a walk in the park). I think from a young age I began to resent pleasure because of how fleeting it is, and I’m a huge control freak. Misery on the other hand can last a lifetime if you let it, yay.
There are pros and cons to being a person like me, just like anyone else I suppose. And one day I’ll look at my silly little journals and cringe at how petty I was, and how a dumb magpie ruined my late August, hazy mornings.
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***note magpies are definitely a metaphor for chinks...in order to be in accordance with the rules of this site.

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