I brush my teeth and spit out pinkish foam which suggests that once again I was too hard on myself. Today, - or, well, tonight - I am angry about so many little things. The social blisters have burst and every single thing that rubs me the wrong way has become impossible to ignore. I am seething. I am tired of being nice. It's just so annoying when you just end up being taken advantage of. Guess I should say No, fuck off, a little more often. But I don't. No, instead I try to be helpful under the presupposition that it will cause a balance of mutual generosity. Of course this doesn't happen since I rarely ask for anything myself.
My spiritual body feels like it is carrying too much weight. I want time and space enough around me to enjoy what I create, instead of seeing it be appreciated by others. Yes, I'm bitter. I am not altruistic and selfless. I do nice things so that nice things will be done unto me. Dammit, it's payday! I will no longer turn the other cheek. I will squirrel away all that is good about me, and only share it when I damn well please.
I am bleeding energy.
I am leaking joy.
I miss myself.
Counting Crows
The smell of hospitals in winter
and the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters
but no pearls
And all at once you look across a crowded room
to see the way that light attaches
to a girl
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