My god, we’re all grotesque little things.
Nobody is coming to save us. We'd bite their heads off for it anyway.
Being alone with yourself is a different kind of discomfort.
I close the door again and again on my habitual route of distraction. Old lover.
I want to twist up inside myself, the most elaborate pretzel.
We’re always reinforcing our own cages.
None of us really wants freedom. We’re the freed bird who refuses to leave.
Blaming our self-imposed slavery on anything else, except ourselves.
The skeleton key is burning a hole in our own pocket.
Just count down from three.
1, 2, 3.
Busy busy little bee.
If we stay busy enough we can pretend not to notice. Go to our graves oppressed, happily. DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING TAKE that FROM ME, our shriveled up old person mouth will scream.
The other day, I woke up healthy. That was what I kept telling myself was really stopping me, and now I’m the bird perched in the cage looking at the wide open door. Feeling the piping hot air of fear rising up in a way I never felt when I was safely locked away.
We do it with all of the things.
Just takes one socially acceptable space to place blame.
The job you’ll quit to chase your dream.
The money you’ll earn to fund your dream.
The family you’ll finish raising then live your dream.
The habit you’ll overcome to focus on your dream.
The depression and anxiety and toxic relationships and physical ailments and woe is me the list goes on. Something somewhere will always find a way to come up.
The world is burning and we’re lined up at Trader Joe’s for 6 hours waiting for them to release a limited edition canvas tote bag believing we’ll use it for really important things but it just ends up shoved in some closet to be forgotten with all of the other short-term dopamine(s) while we doom scroll indignantly and comment for or against a war run by Israel and the pedophile “Elites,” liking and re-posting every video that gives us permission to self-diagnose a half-dozen mental labels but its also important for everyone to know that we’re not crazy and they’re the crazy ones if they dare disagree with any opinion we have because we’ve invested a solid decade in strengthening our position through a highly trained algorithm of what we already agree with and trust us when we say the only thing standing between us and chasing our dreams are those evil overlords and shady bureaucrats and the lady down at city hall who was a total cunt to our face and the person who refuses to drive the speed limit making us late to an engagement we didn’t really want to attend and will find something to complain about to anyone who will listen because poor poor us everyone and everything is so damned insufferable and we could’ve been anything we wanted to if we didn’t have such a challenging childhood growing up or our partner of 10 years hadn’t suddenly given up on us, we could have been an astronaut or an artist or a detective or a lawyer or some really smart mathematician or scientist changing the world for future generations but instead we’re working a 9-5 with people who are so fucking annoying because they gave up on their dreams in life and seem to take pleasure in making everyone just as miserable as themselves.
I was blocked from an Instagram account this morning, and my comment deleted on a reel highlighting how our government is funding war. Because I said none of us are actually that upset about it, because the most we’re moved to do is publish reels online about it to turn our own version of a profit from it. We’re the same as the bad actors we’re complaining about, maybe worse. They’re steering the ship, and we’re the ones willfully funding it.
Maybe we’re worse for it, because we’re acting like we’re somehow the good guys. We’ve perfected the look of shock and horror on our face, good little actors and actresses.
I’ve had to think long and hard on that one, coming out of toxic relationships. It’s the same, in microcosm. The obviously bad actor in the relationship is an easy target, but they were just steering the ship. I was the one who continued funding it, while claiming inncence.
None of us are as ignorant as we claim to be.
Some are just better at fooling themselves.
I ate a raw egg yolk this morning. I shouldn’t be able to do that without negative ramifications. I think I’m deciding I’m no longer Mercury toxic. This one feels more challenging than the rest of the decisions I’ve made this month. Baby steps, but I’m on the downward slope of the slip-n-slide.
Made bratwurst for brunch. Ate so much sauerkraut, I grew up German, this is like going home for a little while.
Millie is chewing the button off my sleeve, and I’ll let her. What’s the harm and foul of it? Her enjoyment is more important than the organization of my lounging shirt sleeves.
I said goodbye in my ways earlier today. And immediately started in eating all manner of chocolate things. An ugly kind of compulsion, maybe this is what we share in common and I just never let them see it. Took a nap, glorious thing of it. Woke up to resume it again. But I see it, “oh, you really want me to stay in the birdcage huh? Afraid of that freedom...”
I have all manner of sympathies for anyone I once said I hated. Even if I know there’s no place to be close with them again. They are me in so many ways, that’s the discomfort of it, let me pretend I’m not that manner of ugly won’t you, pretty please?
My god, we’re all grotesque little things.
Can I go to bed committed to waking up and changing another person? If they are only a reflection of myself anyways, my ego really wants me to try try try. Probably a different kind of psilocybin mushroom for that I’d need to grow.
Nobody is coming to save us, because we’d bite their heads off for it anyways. Little birds want to stay locked away.
