The Unbearable Nothing

I don't feel very thankful about being alive today. I mopped about in the morning, spent almost all of it feeling sorry for myself (seemed like the best thing I could do) before I got ready and left the flat to take a bus into town. At least I had good coffee. Here is a slightly contradictory photo of what seems like a smile from this afternoon.

I've poisoned a lot of things that could have happened. I'm interrogating myself: what am I going to do next? My tendencies to question if I should have stayed back has been increasing, peaking at uncomfortably high levels ever since I walked through the boarding gates less than a week ago. I was afraid to be alone and for a while I was scared that was how I'd like to be, but now I'm just scared of the fear. It's a revoltingly twisted issue that keeps twirling around in my head and it's making me dizzy.

[dislodge]

I want to make many things happen. Also I want to give back all I can to my parents. I want to be able to embrace appreciation, both receiving it and showing it without tensing up and feeling awkward. It's nice to feel wanted, and it's very humanistic and I want to be able to remember that more this year. Many things bruised me in 2014, but they're fading like old scars.