beautiful chaos
Pretty sure there's a country song called 'beautiful mess' ... but I don't feel like looking it up, I just was thinking that in relation to my life in a rare moment of calm bliss and figured I should capture it. Ohhh and that reminds me of the scribbled list I wrote of myths vs. reality about turning 30! Let's see...
4/29 - this has been up for days, clearly I got distracted looking for that little notebook ('hey, I use this for work' - that notebook, the size does make it a distinct one...) but this time I'm here during my fave time of day. highdeas... not that it's a true time of day or something I rely on each day the way I know I'll be working tomorrow ('working' ... or curled in the fetal position with guilt about not working, trying to distract myself in the latest of kindle's psychological thrillers to distract my racing mind) or that I am addicted to painkillers - this just takes me by surprise every time. how many times have I said "all I know is thank god for weed" ? A BILLION. That's because of this exact moment.
HIGHDEAS!
Ahh yes, is this a theme or structure forming for my rambling thoughts here? I'm not sure, but I do know I have to empty my mind out to avoid letting my own reflections (if they end in a cliche we'll know I'm getting somewhere, darling future self that's brave enough to read this - p.s. well done!) taint my conversations. Yeah, that's a perfect way to describe the way I'll ramble on and on the way I do while writing here except via text to my poor friends and/or latest hookup. Sorry, to all the boys I've ever kissed - A Memoir.
Kidding, it's usually a good thing: as I had typed to Nicky before realizing I should just be writing... fuck
Every day I have this realization that weed is great right after I smoke it during a brief respite/moment of clarity and remember to smoke. That's truly how it feels, I'm aware how nuts this sounds but just getting it out of my damn head... the only thing I can truly compare it to is PMS-ing, a female's least likely thing to be accused of and yet quite possibly the exact source of her current bout of annoyance/irritation/anger/despondency/overly emotional emotions. I guess once again I'm proving cliches are true WITHOUT this being the ending I meant above - whatever point I'm getting at, it's not that I need to add anything about females time of the month to my true cliches. My dislike of that one is so specific I'm realizing how anti-feminist it seems... although wouldn't the act of - okay stop stop. I guess this is why I don't always end up with great results when texting my high ideas... they're not always fully baked. HAH. good one.
Anyways, WEED IS MEDICINAL. I guess that's my point: a plea for legalization of a drug that's been legalized but I still purchase illegally because my friend grows great stuff. life. maybe I don't want to write a future bestseller - or at the very least I have plenty of moments where I'm hoping to be faking it until I make it - I just have been conveniently using it as an excuse for all my poor choices...
Wait what? Stop that. I'm here to write about whatever the fuck I had been saying to Nicky - fuck, this was it, the thoughts about how smoking each day "usually a bit later in the day. but fuck work" as I said to him, puts me in this great place right after being suicidal. I realize I'm not suicidal every day - when I was, I was at least a bit proactive with that neuro eval - but the fact I have this sensation of escaping a brush with death/insanity every time after smoking for the first time (well, unless it's early in the day I guess - which is why I try not to smoke until later, usually until well after I've forgotten it's an option and stopped being a miserable sob...) feels similarly to how every month when I get my period I'm shocked to realize that hormones are to blame for whatever is going on at the time in my head (or heart I suppose, if we're talking about feelings... although is that just symbolic? I should have been a psychologist... never would have gotten bored. Although thinking about hacking right now makes me the - wait no, not the same at all)-
HUMAN BEHAVIOR
Yes, that was it! I was thinking about how I one day wrote "the world turned upside down and I landed on my feet" and how it must be true that feelings can't kill you - omg YES, I was being dramatic in my head and despite instantly calling myself 0ut and realizing I should be writing, I still did have the thought in a too tacky to be a memoir title other than as a joke way: yeah feelings can't kill you, but there's worse things than death. Naturally I want to better define "things" (occurrences? ways to be alive? feeling isn't a wa- yes, feeling is a way to live. good, bad, whatever, the point is I am not allowing the numbing anymore).
Anddd ladies and gentleman, she has found the point!
Right. Ugh whoever said or wherever I saw the saying 'it's the things you don't put in your diary that are the most true' can go fuck a duck but it's true. I don't want to actively think - nevermind write - about the horrific sense of doom I feel while thinking about the fact I am out of any form of benzos and will most likely (someway, somehow, without letting much real thinking go into it... because my subconscious is damn good at being a hedonist - something which I still don't understand more people aren't, alas that is the problem I suppose) end up getting more.
Why is it that thinking about marking today as my first benzo free day and then failing is so ... not upsetting, but definitely something I'm experiencing since an aversion to feeling that I can barely put my finger on it... or to be more accurate, I guess it's more like an aversion to thinking anything that makes me feel so awful.
damn, living instead of existing isn't easy. I see why I'm such an addict... if only there was a way to solve all or nothing behavior in a way which I don't already know (meditating, yoga, small changes every day like eating at least a carrot - hey I did have my 'total greens' with ice cream! win, future self, mark it down). Yes, a quick fix without the crash... ugh. Of course. The cliche's about being all about the climb - and yep, Miley Cyrus singing - have already started sounding off in the soundtrack of my mind.
FUCK YOU, TRUE CLICHES
I get it - nothing I'm experiencing is in any way shape or form new or exciting. No groundbreaking truths to be found here future self: just a girl living in the big old world (did Bon Jovi write a cliche? I really need to look up the definition of cliche) trying to ... get by. by getting hiiiiiiigh - ba dum da dum. Just kidding, no more smoking, back to work -shit! 2:30 meeting! professional development.. classic.