§Write a poem in which you try to transcribe as accurately as you can your thoughts while you are writing. Don’t edit anything out. Write as fast as you can without planning what you are going to say. (Try this by handwriting if possible.)
§ Autopilot: Trying as hard as you can not to think or consider what you are writing, write as much as you can as fast you can without any editing or concern for syntax, grammar, narrative, or logic. Try to keep this going for as long as possible: one hour, two hours, three hours: don’t look back don’t look up.
I have a feeling I’ll be even more sore tomorrow I don’t know why I can’t just stretch like any sane person would do. or why I can’t just see the best for myself, and maintain the discipline I need to make it happen. I can’t even distinguish the right decision among the others completely lost in the thick of it all a tangled bed of what ifs. I don’t know how to crawl back in and I don’t know who would be the right one to help me be what I want, find what that is when I could really use it. I need experiences, I need time, and space and I need a new pair of eyes to view the world with. Is it that habits are hard to break and patterns are hard to get out of, change is possible but difficult, or is it that I’m kidding myself with the laughable notion of getting better, doing better. The end is in sight I tell myself, but it’s not really. I’ve been really scared at the thought of any future before, time goes on forever, I have days and years after this. It’s been a terrifying thought sometimes, more than death was easy and cowardly, but I couldn’t keep thinking that way. Isolation is a stimulus, most disruptive to slowing down the chatter in my brain always there is someone even if they’re not real, and I can’t interact, sometimes I prefer it that way I can’t imagine what other people spend their time thinking about, if it’s an endless dialogue between self-chastisements and limiting prophecies and rare, hopeful gleams of confidence, and wise “oh fuck it all why should I care anymore?”s but then why should anyone be caught in the mental maze I’m caught in does anyone deserve it at all? But the real question is Do I? Why should they be different answers? I don’t know what’s going to happen next week, I’m really nervous and those questions won’t go away even though I can barely fucking function when I’m paralyzed by indecision and confusion and denial and some need for justice or fairness for someone I wronged but loved all the same and maybe still do or maybe not. Is it love when it’s not returned? Or just thought to be unreturned? Does it matter if it’s actual or (mis)perceived the roadblocks will get in the way of everything and I don’t’ know when I’ll feel normal again, or what normal is, what it was, I don’t think I’ve ever known it not once in my life but why do I pretend I have? Should/Could my experiences make me more interesting, more admirable, more valuable or should I hide them, ashamed as I’ve always been to be what I think I am which may not be who I am at this moment change is necessary and inherent in everything so why should I be so scared of it? Or maybe there is a “right” and a “wrong” objectively, and across time and maybe one of these molds I’m fitting myself into really is the wrong one but how could I possibly identify which one? my brain hasn’t helped and I can’t rely on it anymore but I can’t rely on anything else, things I don’t have access to knowledge of my feelings is based in my knowledge of neurotransmitters when I need to feel the electricity, intangible things people call emotion but don’t try to explain is it better to exist between two extremes, without choosing and is there a “better” at all for me or for anyone? things are, aren’t they? and sometimes we like them, and the rest of the time we don’t, or it could be the other way around I suppose though I haven’t seen much proof of that and is there reason to blame anyone (me) or will it do nothing for me now or in the long run? Or I am just stuck in this cycle of self-doubt and uncertainty and I can’t tell when it will end my thighs hurt from my workout yesterday at least I can feel productive about something for once, but not really since it’s not a big deal and I can’t see anything good from anything I do anyway except Friday. I don’t know if we really helped, or did anything valuable the kids were really cute and seemed well-behaved enough I can’t remember how I actually was at that age and I doubt there are any videos or pictures from just then it’s almost like I didn’t exist before high school and even then, I have no idea how/if I’ll be remembered I don’t expect to be but I always remember a face, I almost can’t help it I guess how much thought I gave to them is a definite factor but I sometimes can’t help comparing. They say we only dream about faces we’ve seen somewhere we can’t actually create them I can’t share myself with others and I try my best to hide it from myself most of the time whether through flat out denial or distraction or lying or being manipulated influenced brainwashed? Fuck that I want to make my own decisions I want agency I can’t just let things go I don’t want to be a fucking pushover anymore Why do I spend my time thinking about things like this? There’s no way functional people, more than I am, spend this much time overanalyzing. what stops me from thinking? that’s what I need to do more often.