dancing with myself - the donnas

bonus track edamame - bbno$

 

shocking blue - venus

 wild rivers - long time

8 years gone

Bobby, love at first sight

love at first sight

Piggy

 

Just to try to orient myself to Now (stop spinning my wheels), I am reviewing previous turning points. Yikes. 

It's a wonder anyone survives/d. 

wolfies just fine - everyone is dead except us (high rec) ❤️

growing out ft winter is coming

back to yoga

ramshackle parade - I feel fine
 

I feel like moving.

I feel like moving when my heart is off. Which it mostly has been in my life. 

I do that more and more, sum up my life as if it were over. In my head.

Times like that, when I can't outrun thinking, then I want to move. 

I can't be dead yet. If I were, I wouldn't feel like there's a boot on my chest (think: I NEED A CIGARETTE). Dead women don't need a stiff drink. 

I think a great deal about Nebraska. Usually something like "What the hell is wrong with you?" I try to answer my own question. But I can't put my finger on it. So I assume it's me, I'm always the problem. I too much. Whatever it is, I too much it. And I cannot control that, it's not a behavior, it's an essential quality.

I'm never happy. 

I have a lot to be happy about. And I am. 

But. 

I feel kind of like I did when Trainwreck and I got back together. Except without the daily sex well of lust part. Not at first but after awhile, I became watchful and concluded "you're lying", and I tried to figure out to whom he was lying, and concluded he was talking to himself mostly, in the voice of his mother. I look at Nebraska like: What is your problem buddy? Except without the endless well of lust, I quickly conclude, Just Stop Getting On My Nerves.  Every Thing gets on my nerves. Except my dogs. 

I wasn't like this version of myself before. In fact that definitely set poor Trainwreck up to fail. Nothing about him got on my nerves. As if by magic, I liked his cigarette breath even. It strikes me as funny that, he was like Dball is to me now. That is insane. The only way to get rid of me was to somekinda kill me. Too much. 

Nebraska could get rid of me easily. But. I'd have been shocked, also. And I think about that a lot. How often I catch myself thinking about my self in the past tense. 

Every time you think about yourself as having concluded, you're committing mind suicide. Think about it. 

Maybe I'd feel better if I could explain any of this to Nebraska. But he would only interrupt me midsentence and shout about how committed he is and loves me to death. 

And so I stop talking. Because all I have to say to that is TO DEATH is my point. 

So. I will probably move or something.

jeremy ivey- orphan child