I didn’t have to ask for anything. It came and brought clarity.
It’s nice to know things while feeling anger in my chest. I understand why I’m upset and where the feeling comes from. I can tell when my body tensed up and my chest getting tight. I can tell with messages, with conversations, with moods. I can tell what’s not being said sometimes a lot more.
It’s something that scares me, and it’s something that’s useful. My chest is still tight and accelerated. I can control my breathing somewhat while knowing my heart is beating fast.
There’s instances of feeling really upset, really frustrated, really detached. It’s funny, yet sad in many ways and forms.
I’m changing my mind about things. Breaking away from things. Reviewing and reversing some things. Part of me isn’t sure if this is making the actual pivot, or if it’s time for be to more realistic. How can I want something, and be scared to claim it and give things actual titles, deadlines, and technicalities? With contracts, with paperwork, with everything.
Everything is funny yet angering at the same time, and realizing the results of me talking get me this far with nothing but disappointment to show is pretty eye opening.
It’s painful. Being so painfully hurt yet realize and come to understand that I’m cradling it by choice through the results.
It’s with art, it’s with the day to day, the relationships, the communication. The authenticity has been martyred, or sacrificed, rejected, tarnished.
I think I know what I want to be, what to plan, where the attention should go a bit more clearly now. It’s unfortunate and painful to swallow and express. Another funeral to grin and bear with the 5 min tears, and it’ll come and go in waves.
I’m amused and anxious. It’s interesting and I can see the things I didn’t before. Or maybe it’s what I chose to not see.
Life has a funny way of humbling.
