Catch Me
Thursday 3rd of September 2020
Everything’s a wreak, and I feel like a wreck. This isn’t me complaining, this is me trying to stabalise my own… energy, and I’m reluctant to use that word, but I shouldn’t be. Embracing night, embracing, self, embracing who I am…
I should tidy. Put the hoover round. Have a bath. I’m avoiding that, I’m lazy, or tired, you can pick, and the bathroom smells like damp, which is something I should probably care about or something.
My head feels like its being compressed and my thoughts feel scattered, my body like fireworks popping off under my skin. How do I fix that, bring myself back to stasis, to ground? May I just answered my own question. Okay.
There’s so much, so many pieces of me everywhere, and time is too slippery to control, why do I even try?
Do you want a description of my desk?
Loose poetry, pages of notes, an open sketch book, art supplies, candle making tools, books, fabric to make a skirt, two open notebooks.
How about the floor?
More art supplies, half finished paintings, and empty plastic bag, books, a pencil case, scraps of paper, even more notes.
It’s chaos. It feels like chaos, and I’m stuck inside it. And I know, take one thing at a time, but which one thing? Will it make a difference? Well, I suppose hoping it will all fix itself isn’t working. Organise itself, come together itself. Something like that.
I’m not very good at the organising part of life, but I crave it, order, balance, equilibrium. I want to feel it, manifest it, live it, embody it. I’m tired of being scattered. It’s literally exhausting me.
