365

jun.26.22

I feel like I haven't been too fair with these posts – even though the only rule for them was to wrote everyday, which I've been trying to do well – I've been relying on short poems lately since I drifted away from the fanfiction phase.... And I guess it sort of feels like a cop out of sorts.

Again, even though the only rule was to write something....

So, I'm just going to make a "blah blah" post, because I haven't been able to journal as much as I'd like, and my brain is beginning to feel fuzzy (if that makes any sense...?) Basically: writing and dumping out the boring shit that's at the forefront of my mind typically helps my brain feel less muddled. Which, sometimes, helps me write some detailed pieces.

When my brain is muddled or "fuzzy", it's hard to think of words properly, in a way that is supposed to sound better than a toddler's babble. As a result of that, it makes it very difficult to write anything when I'm too tired to think of words, so to save myself the agony, I simply don't write anything. Or if I do write, it's a short poem that doesn't have much body to it.

Why my brain gets fuzzy is beyond me. I mean, the world around us sucks. Every day blurs together. And there's so much unknown that the thought of trying to navigate it stresses me the fuck out. Small things add to the fuzz, then it builds up and up and up, and eventually, it just becomes too much. And then I shut down.

And blabbing about the fuzziness and trying to decipher and pick apart my own ailments sometimes helps, because I have a difficult time trying to describe how I'm feeling. Like, when somebody asks you, and the response is a simple, "I'm sad", or "I don't know", or whatever the case may be. Then they ask you why you feel like that, and it's nearly impossible to find out the root cause of it.

That feeling is the fuzziness.

So, to get on with it, I'm tired, I woke up with one bitch of a headache, and this us the first day off in a while but I feel lost in limbo. I'm so used to having to get my shit together and having to work my "9 to 5", that when I get time off, I'm supposed to be working. And I feel guilty when I'm doing something for me, like reading or writing or making art, that it makes my stomach hurt and I end up not doing anything. Which, evidently, makes me feel worse.

And I don't know, it's just a sucky feeling.

And now I apologize for sounding like some sob story. That wasn't my intention.

Anyway, I guess this mess counts as the writing for today. Hopefully the next one won't be as bad.