Thought Thinking About Itself.

Saturday 13th of June 2020

We’ve got a lot to get through and make into sense, so let’s not waste time.

Let’s start with a dream, don’t worry, I’ll keep it short. A guy, gruff looking, think America trucker, baseball cap and all was oddly enough, driving a truck. Next to him, in the passenger seat was a little girl, think Doctor Who, family of blood episode. She turns to him and says, ‘I’m not here to change the world, I’m here to change people, and they’ll change the world.’ Then a vehicle crashes into them, crushes the little girl to death but leaving the man unharmed. What do you think it means?

The brain, at its most simple, is a problem solving machine. It’s one of the reasons I get stuck in my head so much, stuck in an never ending punishment loop of trying to figure people out, trying to translate their insanity into logic, into data that makes sense to me.

Sunday 14th of June 2020

There’s always a voice in your head telling you you can, even when the world is screaming at you that you can’t. That’s the problem.

I had to throw out that yellow pencil, well, I chose to. It kept breaking, and I’m not dealing with weak graphite, I refuse to.

This new pencil is black, a much better colour.

I was told I have germs today, in a jokey way that you can tell isn’t really a joke. We’re in a weird world and people’s natural crappiness is rising to the surface. All these little things, and all these big things, it takes a toll.

So, let’s make a plan. There are going to be bad days, when the screaming of the world wins and peoples cruelty, intentional or other wise infects us, and that’s okay. We’ll call them rest days.

I saw this insta post that described depression as ‘deep-rest’, depressed, deep rest, and I liked it. I always feel guilty when I’m depressed, when it wins and gets the better of me, but what if…

What if I accept that I’m not like everyone else around me?

What if I ignore their attempts to reshape me to a form that they can accept and understand?

What if I stop forcing myself into a shape that doesn’t fit me?

What if I accept that I need rest days, that I might get to where I want to go slower because of this, but I will get there?

What if I can have whatever life I want to, despite what anyone else has to say about it?

Doesn’t that sound like a solid, but flexible plan, something to hold on to?

I’ve always assumed that in any given situation that I’m the problem, because, well, maths, I’m the common denominator. But what if I’m not? What if I’m just surrounded by crappy people? What if I’m the woman in every daytime TV movie that’s just always attracting the abusive partner? She isn’t really the problem she just hasn’t realise that she has a right to better.