I’m just not doing well, at the moment. I wish I had something elegant and composed to share, but lately I’m just feeling isolated, shut off. I feel like I missed the boat and I don’t belong in this world. I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been constructively creating. All I want to do is sleep. I can’t even get a handle on my everyday life.
Last night, for instance. I went to a poetry reading, and a gallery crawl, and then I brought delicious food over to my boyfriend’s. I was feeling the extrovert recharge and I was determined to get up today and do all the things that I have on my mental to do list, like a champ. But that hasn’t happened, and it looks like it’s not going to. I overslept and had more twisted dreams that left me feeling uneasy.
And so I’ve managed to do a few simple things. This confessional post being one of them. So I press onward and forward, hoping against hope to feel a sense of accomplishment instead of further upsetting myself at missed opportunities.