Mouth farts.

Ok. What am I doing? Seriously. 

I am rudderless. I keep searching for someone or something to cling on to… who will get me where I need to go. The only person who is going to do that is me. This is bullshit. 

I’ve been dulling and sating myself so I don’t get angry enough to actually do something. Or fed up enough. I am EXISTING right now. 

I will be 45 in a week. 

I am miserable. Disconnected. Overstuffed. Underutilized. I am lonely sometimes. Not all the time though. I’ve leaned in to my loner-ness. 

Where do I start? Where do I start Where do I start?

I’ve started and gone down so many dead ends that I’m tired. Why bother? The bridge will be out down the road. But where is my sense of adventure. Mulling around in this clearing wasting time. Wearing circles in the grass. What is the worry? It cannot be worse than this. This is terrible.  

I’m so fucking tired of trying again and I think I’ve just given up at so many things. Rested in the comfort zone. That’s ok actually. That’s what its there for. Have I rested enough? Who cares. Time continues on. 

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