Struggles

BLUE DREAMS

Some days….

Yesterday, I got lost in clouds of weed smoke and doom thinking.

The mind is so strange. On one hand, I can have this feeling, and reason with myself as to why I’m having this feeling, and justify that feeling, and apply all of the logic to help me understand why I’m feeling what I’m feeling, then convince myself that everything will be okay.

In the very next moment, the other side of my mind (I don’t even know what to call that thing) wants CHAOS. SELF-DESTRUCTION. VINDICATION.

That was yesterday.

Today, I took a walk through the trail, sat on a fallen branch two meters away from the creek, and read for an hour. Privilege can be peaceful.

As a writer, it’s usually ego and ambition that brings on this barrage of emotion. Blue Dreams and an unfulfilled vision can push you over the edge.

I have the luxury of words, though. Written words. I never really looked at my writing as therapy. Not in a direct way. But I’ve become more aware of how many times I’ve written down words I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) dare speak out loud.

It doesn’t last. None of it. But it’s also what makes this life so beautiful.