Eccentric
I think before the 2000’s, the community would have just labelled me, “eccentric.”
I started writing a thing, earlier today. Accidentally clicked on a notification instead of swiping it away, and lost everything I’d worked out.
That’s just the way life goes sometimes.
I keep starting up the hill, only to find myself at the bottom again.
I managed two rounds of chelation this month, before burning my adrenals out.
Sitting in the egg chair outside, with Millie curled in my lap, I remembered that I broke my neck a little over a decade ago. My mood was instantly better.
Fuck, if I can recover from that, I can get through this too.
My whole life has been starts and restarts. I’ve rarely ever crossed a finish line.
They say that’s the hallmark of successful people — their ability to fail constantly and keep getting back up.
I had a conversation with a friend today, in which I divulged both, “I am actually Alice’s Mad Hatter come to life,” and “I’ve been having more moments I’d call clairvoyance lately,” in nearly the same sentence.
I think before the 2000’s, the community would have just labelled me, “eccentric.”
Actually, I kind of like it.
