cacophony

I'm a cacophony of emotives,

Non correlated,

Swirling around frantically,

Like looking at biological chaos theory.

The reactionary me sees only a metre in front,

And actions seem uncontrolled as I navigate metre by metre.

When something happens that creates a discord, 

There is a reflective pause 

And the assessment of the chain of reactions leads to an upset stomach,

A what's going on such that non of these short term happy endeavours lead to anything.

What's the real cause of my overall discomfort?

It may just be who I am, naturally inclined to be edgy, incapable of satification in sendantry 

reaction to Mark Manson writing

The reality of his words makes experiences less painful and the future brighter...we attribute the meaning to the pain, if pain is inevitable, make the meaning something you can move on with. I've created a science about deciphering meaning, with conclusions that vary a scale from meaningless to uncontrollably unknown but ultimately it is all your perception, so attribute as you will. Each person being their own magic trick, an illusion to themselves. I remember when I watched the doors at 16 and thoughts around whether you could alter the physical through perception. Because my perception is so fluid the lines of reality look like a mirage but the atomical science is fixed. Living in the mirage means walking the path of uncertainty constantly, viewing all the varied perceptions of one line of action and the multiple lines that form the blurred mirage that is my future.

Can't even write

Every thought has a counteractive what if?

Such that I can't even commit to 1 idea of what's happening or where I should choose to go

I am uncertain why I feel unmotivated so I try to decipher why I am feeling like this, or even what would I like to be doing instead

And I have no answer

I'm uncertain

The uncertainty breeds more inactive behaviour breeding further unsettled nature

I struggle with deciding what I'd like to do as nothing seems appealing.

So perhaps I'll dream

If anything was possible what would make me feel content

The answer an inspiring person who makes me laugh, I could live with that happily moving forward

Can I find that? I'm not sure I'm attractive enough as a person to find that.

So I guess I can make a point to work on myself till then.

Work on being inspired

Create environments that inspire to be inspired

What would they be

Nature's form appreciation

Ocean appreciation

Design appreciation

Creative soul's appreciation like docos or music

Films, stories of culture

The myths and creating stories of historical based fantasy

lonely heart

Comfort suddenly lost

Through my own instigating 

For one moment over another

I cry with the emptiness, after not having to even know of this "all by myself feeling" such that I'd forgotten it's painful existence

I'm taking today and throwing it out of the park

Creating an affirmation I find a big fat farse

The concept though that you can perpetuate a more productive and loving way of thinking I agree with

So into.my mixer I chuck these 2 elements and out comes

Today I'm aiming for goal

The pressures on sure but so is the excitement

I may miss but I may do a long shot that rolls through and that's exciting

Today I'm going for a long shot and hoping for a nail biting roll through goals

I will definitely have a soccer dance move ready for when it does...even though my imagery is a footy goal

Today I'm aiming for my long shot

looking

Somewhere along the line

The long medicated line

All I saw was the moment 

And dealing with the harshness of it

I spent no time thinking any other way

And now

I'm lost doing nothing

It's a different directionless

It's one without doing

Don't get out

Feel terrible I don't get out enough and more that Astra doesn't.

Tv becomes dominant and as I look for New places to live, is it really location or vibe that is restricting my being active post work

Can't stop

There's this process

Life

It's frustrating, mainly because I've nothing to follow

My intuitions aren't enough to keep me on track

There's nothing concrete to definitely correlate

So yeah I'm not sure it's my cup of tea.

When it comes to choice I've always been like "I didn't choose this"

So best scenario for outcomes of this being...

Start to choose...That's been a winner in terms of feeling good

Grabbing onto the feeling isn't such a good ride cause of the overanalysis part but it's definitely the most convictive.

Recommendations for future work...

The most comfortable I've ever been was when I was actually following someone else's conviction but I believed it was a good fun path...

Tonight I wish for that. A good story.

Maybe tomorrow I'll write one.

How to stop feeling sick

All these fearless people,

Is the experience of fear still a life?

Is the experience of discomfort a notable thing?

And comparatively, if noting anything, of value?

What would make my experience valuable?

Maybe even without value it is no different.

The feeling itself is a natural instinct in order to not die

That says a lot about my time spent.

People are grateful for life, what makes them so or like my life direction, is it actually less of a choice!

mind altering, its a knockout that's the game

I'm on the drugs that killed river Phoenix

It's a knockout that's the name, its a knockout that's the game, its a knockout that's the name of the game.

Can't help but think that this state of absorption of mind in the day to day and in particular the lack of attention focus which I was once famously revered by myself, is a product of clonazepam. I am grateful for the relief at not knowing my own anxiety of doing but I am also perturbed constantly by my own lack of awareness, particularly of others. My senses are dulled it seems to be at others levels, although I still maintain the values, the actual carry out is lost.

So what is lost?

The reaction to a person's feelings. The attention is there but there is a lack of awareness of value to reaction at the time. 

My interactions with others although may always have been as quick are less focussed on the feeling in responding to it. It's like I let the moment fly as it is. Yet I also still am aware that it's not how I'd like to conduct myself.

The days aren't nice, let me off the self propelling societal push.

It's on the go, its on the run

You just can't stop

The momentum.

It's consistent, its persistent

It seems like fun

But it's undone.

Cacophony of stress

A build up of muscle tension

But really it's all mental.

Not looking in a direction 

Just being pushed

Not sure how to brake the slippy slide.

I want to talk, I want to look

But time just keeps on keeping on.

And then the day is over 

And then I feel the burn

Of a constant propulsion.

Cry's.

How to stop being a sinking ship

Not sure I'm sinking but definitely wading to keep my head above water.

Can't seem to not feel like I have to do it independently and I can't seem to progress such that I feel like I'm not going round in circles.

Write a plan to understand some basics.

Glean that understanding.

Get lost in details of where's the data or what format I can bring it in.

Learning 3 different programs and re-interpreting someone else's work.

How do I give myself a leg up?

Ask Daniel?

Sun on my neck

"Feel the burn" ...I grew up knowing this as retro aerobics, yet it resonated with me. The push on through, the tone in which Jane spoke,she was just do it before Nike. Yet somehow the ideA of doing something intending for suffering, although with it's Buddhist appeal doesn't appeal to my mind compass. Physical compass yes, although almost 6 months on from any real exercise I don't feel this either. I realise the clonazepam gives me the calm to enable a focus of moment but I wonder if I'll get a long term inspiration back. I can do a long term plan but inspiration being the basis of strength behind a plan I do feel a loss of personal strength. I always had conviction but not long term direction so why I think now would be any different. In accepting this and taking the clonazepam out of the equation I am then left with my endless social analysis. Maybe my September counterpart Mr malcolm Gladwell has more in touch and definitely better utilisation of this aspect.

So what to do with this now. Why am I struggling at this point to go forth with my time and find something to be involved in. Am I really that tired from Astra and work. I think it's more an excuse to play along with the loss, to accept I don't have anything, to wallow. So if not to wallow what would I.choose? 

Choose

Choose

Or maybe letting go. Letting loose such that I go with the flow. Not something I really do although it's my intention. Maybe aydan is a perfect mirror of not choosing. I see a reflection of not only in work but in people and in lifestyle of not putting in fully. Self doubt the most accessible answer but really the brains capacity to not focus so much on itself foregone. All wrapped up in ego.

Thinking out of self. Skills I possess. Where should I go to let go?

the passing

I know I'm just passing time,

Passing by an uncensored reality

In favour on a survival lifestyle.

But alas it is I'll fitting on me,

Flatters neither fAce nor figure

And the representation of energy I aim for is see through,

And any genuine feeling is lost on the audience.

And I see the reverse, the trying when if they'd just embrace themselves. 

I was gonna say the try hards are succeeding but my jury is out. My dar is not off I think, so I will see some results.

yearning

Have I created something in my mind that is untrue, such that nothing else will do

Is the sense of a mutual energy all a farse, and all the moments butt a mind fart

The yearning inside would definitely say not, yet in reality it doesn't mean a whole lot

And it hurts that it can't be resolved

weighted inward

High in my chest before the chest plate ends and it becomes the neck

There's a weighted ache, like it's pulling a section of the chest inward,

Held at the edges, like ropes pulled tight to hold up the Trojan horse,

And like the Trojan ready to let loose and cascade through my body,

The attack.

Releasing waves of sadness at the nonexistence of connection

timing and waiting

Left and right 

A leg sore with a need to move and stretch

A constant changing position, still not enough to kwell the soreness

Desires to eat in times well before necessary,

A physical doing to a mental problem

I can't stop this feeling

Only an exercise of the brain to assist in easing the uneasy

everything felt steady till the next moment came

And life was flowing,

For a moment things were going my way

Then boom

Things flipped,

It was too much to quickly and yet not enough to confirm direction.

Sick of being a sideline act, called out by someone else's point of view

I am the star of my own.show and yet I claim no spotlight

I accept no.praise 

And yet turn in anger when I start to get some of what I give out

I turn on myself

Self sabotage.

But not in that blow everything up, movie style way

Just in small movements, gestures, thoughts

To diminish my own presence

I hate love

I hate it's big ass pull on you

Yet love is just the mechanism by which we, I, humans protect life

Love a product of wanting to maintain life

To which I.give a royal fuck you.

Fuck you whoever, whatever created a being to know that they know nothing

Is that not the torment of hell

Or just the privilege of a non suffering state.

If your not fighting to survive you have the time to pish posh about.

And what of this pish poshing.

Dissipating energy,

The point of a dying star,

Why is it not called an alive star?

And which would I call myself? 

Why call yourself neither as you know not whether you are the beginning or the end but from history...

From history,

From time,

You know you are a human who dies after using resources.

The only thing which is of your creation is your energy

And unfortunately,

Most of the time I don't even like mine.

Maybe what I give to others,

But with a view so distorted by self doubt,

It is with an fog of loathing in which I am surrounded.

There was a period of humour,

Where I brought the jazz to the jizz.

It is the artists that bring life to surroundings,

Yet my expression is stunted.

I am a curator of life at best.

Really I would definitely say I am explorer,

With the distinction that I have a misguided compass, double entendre?

No contradiction,

I seek what can't be found,

The why.

There is only belief and I no longer believe.

Yet I'm still a conditioned being and feel it.

I feel love still.

And so am torn.

In my hated love-life!

wish I was

So I have to live life knowing I'll be wishing 

Wishing cause I'm missing my inspiration

But remembering that when I wasn't medicated I couldn't use my inspiration cause I couldn't focus with cyclical thoughts

Solution

Find a couple of focused inspirations and pursue them

Answers

I really like coral, trees, abstract mathematical nature

Focussed I could explore documenting these

I could make patterns with them

If I'm a finder

An explorer then my focus would be discovering

How to discover?

Go searching the oceans

Teach Astra to snorkel

I think that's it, camping and snorkeling

Summer sorted!

It's beginning to feel a lot like christmas

Pain in every store

And there it is dwelling behind the facade
An unacceptance of life's joys and acceptance of the game I feel I'm playing
Let's face it though
It is the stories people want to hear, the game they want to play that wins
Not the face of an ugly truth that a sore mind bears
Say only the positive to keep on keeping on....successfully
And I'm so not good at playing the game
I wish my mum had never taught me the song:
"Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, think I'll go eat worms"
I must tell her to stop singing it to my daughter
What a terrible reminder of mine and another's pain and for her but frivolity!