Life
Things fall apart. The center cannot hold.
In a matter of months, six at the most, I've thought myself into a black hole. With nothing but brainwaves, I've turned a life of near perfection into a quagmire. I hate myself for it. I don't know what to do.
I'm so afraid of being alone. I always have been. Yet, for the first time, I also feel like I need to prove something to myself, by myself. My dismal scene I needs must act alone. Something like that.
Fuck. It's a selfish thought. It's not just my life. For the first time, I baulk at the idea that my life is not entirely my own. I have never been in this situation. I don't know why I'm having these thoughts now. I don't know where they come from. They are destructive and disastrous. I shouldn't be having them. I shouldn't be writing them down.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what would be best for everyone. Maybe, in a few days, I'll bleed and stop being so goddamn dramatic. It could all be nothing, just so much bullshit in the mind of a woman with bad genes who is becoming increasingly right-brained as she ages. (Stupid aside: which way do you see the dancer turning? I stare as hard as I can, focus my eyes every which way, and I can only see her going clockwise. If I scroll down so I can only see her foot, can make her go the other way, but blink hard, and it's clockwise again.)
This is so awful. I feel like I'm in an abyss. What am I doing.
In a matter of months, six at the most, I've thought myself into a black hole. With nothing but brainwaves, I've turned a life of near perfection into a quagmire. I hate myself for it. I don't know what to do.
I'm so afraid of being alone. I always have been. Yet, for the first time, I also feel like I need to prove something to myself, by myself. My dismal scene I needs must act alone. Something like that.
Fuck. It's a selfish thought. It's not just my life. For the first time, I baulk at the idea that my life is not entirely my own. I have never been in this situation. I don't know why I'm having these thoughts now. I don't know where they come from. They are destructive and disastrous. I shouldn't be having them. I shouldn't be writing them down.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what would be best for everyone. Maybe, in a few days, I'll bleed and stop being so goddamn dramatic. It could all be nothing, just so much bullshit in the mind of a woman with bad genes who is becoming increasingly right-brained as she ages. (Stupid aside: which way do you see the dancer turning? I stare as hard as I can, focus my eyes every which way, and I can only see her going clockwise. If I scroll down so I can only see her foot, can make her go the other way, but blink hard, and it's clockwise again.)
This is so awful. I feel like I'm in an abyss. What am I doing.
Labels: psychobabble
posted by Melissa Dunphyat
15:24
5 Comments:
Thoughts aren't destructive and disastrous - but they could lead to actions that are. As long as you remember that they're not the truth, you're safe. Don't believe everything you think.
P.S. The dancer is going clockwise for me too - and I'm very heavily left-brained. Maybe it's because I'm in the southern hemisphere, or maybe it's because it came from the Telegraph and is thus inherently bullshit.
It's got to be an April Fool's joke on behalf of the Telegraph's editorial staff. Everyone knows Terror readers have no discernable brain activity whatsoever, left or right.
Good luck with the black dog. Hope you find some happy somewhere. Look after yourself. And find some sun, even if it means driving a few (hundred) miles. Usually works for my blacknesses. I think it's an Australian thing.
Ride your bike, visit a friend, play your next Scrabulous turn, think of the most depressing Reznor tune that you can and then imagine Ethel Merman singing it word-by-word-note-for-note-from beginning-to-end, and then file one more entry where-in some rough beast slouches toward Bethlehem to purge the soul. That's my prescription.
Oh, and I can see her going both ways, but I can't make it happen when I want it to. She suddenly changes direction but I'm not sure how that happens.
Crap, Mel, all our calculations have been thrown off (by those antidepressants no doubt).
;)
Coincidentally, after after a ridiculous amount of over-analysis it was noticed that the symmetry of the dancer's motion is broken by her shadow. In other words, if it were not for the shadow, perceiving clockwise or counterclockwise motion would be equally correct (and both quite possible). But the position of the easily-overlooked shadow breaks the symmetry: she is unambiguously rotating counterclockwise (if viewed from above).
This is a good example of spontaneous symmetry breaking.
Hope everything works out :)
-rt
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