Stream of consciousness
Tuesday 05/12 6:45 p.m.
Going on daily walk number 582918379429 for the sake of fresh air. For the sake of my sanity. Which in itself means what? I put on my headphones and realize after the tenth lap around my neighborhood I haven’t played anything on my phone: no music, no podcasts, nothing. I don’t know if it’s a craving for some peace and quiet, which does not exist within the walls of my home or even my mind for that matter. Just some quiet, please.
8:27 p.m.
I’m standing in the shower while burning hot water runs over my skin. I’m thinking about how wasteful I’m being by writing this instead of using the running water. I’ll spend the remainder of the shower beating myself up about this.
When I shower, it is my “me” time. I am in complete solitude. Not to be bothered. Alone. Just me and my thoughts. Today, I’m thinking about how inspired and proactive I was a few days ago, even this morning up until the end of my walk. I’m feeling quite drained now, even a little sad. My eyes feel like the shower head right now, just water running through its sockets.
——-
At some point I had to stick my head out of the shower to breathe because of all the steam. Somehow feels metaphorical.
Start time: unknown, finished at 11:57 p.m.
Every time I switch around my jewelry it takes me about 15 minutes — never less than that but just about. Tonight, I rearranged them once more. Lately I’ve been doing this more frequently. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into it but it’s as if I project my boredom onto the rearrangement of my jewelry. It goes far beyond the boredom of the last two months, it’s more internal than that...sometimes I’m just bored of myself.
Wednesday, 05/13 2:48 a.m.
I notice that recently I am constantly reminding myself that this (life) is not a competition. I need to focus on myself, look at these negative feelings I have from time to time and ask myself why? Another person’s successes and/or failures don’t take away from mine. I have to repeat that to myself, as if it were a mantra.
4:12 p.m.
I always feel really calm and at peace after I cry. I can only hold back my tears for so long before I choke up. The tears interrupt the sentences that come out of my mouth. *don’t cry don’t cry*
Sometimes I’m just really sad, all-the-time
Quick! Smile. So no one notices!
4:27 p.m.
Why am I so anxious? What is wrong with me.
My brain right now: chaotic evil
———-
I wish I could just disappear for a little. Maybe if I sit still enough and hold my breath, I’ll be invisible.
The word invincible and invisible are so close but could not be farther apart.
———-
Maybe by publicizing this I’ll be braver, maybe it’ll even heal me
————
5:50 p.m.
I showered without music, I just listened to the water fall from my skin to the floor. Silence.
8:02 p.m. - the sun has set; I didn’t go on a walk today.
Whenever I feel as if I’ve been dragged through the dirt, I try shift my perspective to one of gratitude. For feeling things deeply enough to be affected so intensely. It’s the way I cope and how I make sense of all the feelings I have no control over, ones that I can make no sense of.
Today I read an excerpt from The Experience Machine by Robert Nozick. A six-page excerpt that took me practically the whole day to read. I either got distracted or found myself crying or just needed a second.
I was striving to internalize and give the piece my undivided attention. It felt important, like I needed to hear the words I read.
There were so many lines that resonated with me and made me think about the inescapability of my emotions and that although heavy, what is the alternative? A numb, false sense of happiness, ignorance? Even if the latter seems preferable it is not,
We want experiences, fitting ones, of profound connection with others, of deep understanding of natural phenomena, of love, of being profoundly moved by music or tragedy, or doing something new and innovative, experiences very different from the bounce and rosiness of the happy moments. What we want, in short, is a life and a self that happiness is a fitting response to—and then to give it that response. (Nozick)
Maybe I am telling myself this to alleviate the pain. Sometimes my life feels like it just consists of maybes.
9:49 p.m.
Will the hours of tomorrow last the way that they are supposed to? 60 minutes feels like 60 seconds. My day ends within 24 minutes.
Friday, 05/15 11:00 a.m.
Trying to go about my life without coffee. Without going back to bed. Without taking myself too seriously or being too hard on myself.
The weather is gloomy — therefore so am I.
The past two days I’ve been so occupied that I haven’t had the time to partake in self-deprecating habits/talk.
9:54 pm
Now that things are starting to open up again to the public, there is no excuse to not leave the house anymore. And that makes me so anxious. I miss going to the supermarket and picking up some produce.
Saturday, 5/16 1:07 a.m.
Today I turn 22.
The first hours into my birthday consists of me thinking about death. How ever since I was little, I could never fathom how bleak dying was/is. We are born from stardust and in the end, we return to stardust. In the vastness of the universe, my minuscule role has always been acknowledged but not in death. Does it all just go black? From consciousness to a total disconnect, can I follow my soul wherever it goes?