this is a great truth.
blame it on my night owl roomie, but i haven't gotten a full eight hours of sleep in three weeks. and since i've been bouncing around working and moving and whatnot, the four months before that.
i need a break. isn't that what summer was supposed to be for?
thank the gods for journals. i've been writing like it's the last thing in the world i can cling to. it's glorious and freeing and thought provoking, but oh sweet JESUS do my fingers hurt and boy am i out of profound thoughts.
next step: stream of consciousness. just write, no matter what comes into my head. did that in jason's class the first week and made some really great discoveries. for example:
i used to be afraid of tangible things. snakes no longer bother me. spiders cause me no anxiety. now i fear being alone. i fear other people. i fear my own head. i'm afraid of the world shrinking and everyone becoming inhuman. i used to be afraid of tactile things, things i could somehow control. now i can't even see what i fear.
yeah. like that. should try that again. maybe when i strike poetic gold, i'll finally be able to get some sleep... here's hoping.
