losing desire for things again. had been better. felt dizzy at work. feeling tired. how to restore the self when there is no time. wanting to zone out and rest but having nothing to fall on. wanting to read but it requiring too much focus and mental energy. existing not living.

“You must record, for instance, at what time you got to the office, what you had for breakfast, what you see from your office window, what kind of work you do there, the names of your male and female friends, why you get presents, who tries to undermine your health by giving you sweets, and the thousand things of whose existence and possibilities I know nothing”. Kafka to Felice, 28 September 1912.

I like riding the waves of my feelings when I am allowed to do so. It is nice to be melancholy and to do nothing except sit in bed and ponder, do a little writing, do a little walking, listen to music and let the sounds express your feelings, watch some movies in a hot bath. I like being manic and hyper and having ideas and energy to complete it all. I don’t like working. I simply don’t like selling my time and my life. It betrays me deeply. Every day I am waking up and betraying myself. I need to get out. I am a little rat slipping on a smooth surface, the curvature of the bowl I am caught in is too step and I cannot cling to the surface to escape. I am jumping and leaping but the walls are too high.

Oh, I can’t think of anything better
Pick a hair off my sweater
And drown in me
Like boyfriend jeans
Oh, I haven’t felt this way in, like, ever
I am the convo, you are the weather
And the clamp is a cracked smile cheek
And it tortures me

And I haven’t felt this way in, like, ever
I am the convo, you are the weather
And the clamp is a cracked smile cheek
And it tortures me

I have to ask myself why - but I am afraid that the answer is simply that I am bored of my life. it would probably be the easiest reason to fix, but my god, is it the most humiliating and pathetic. at least if its honest there’s integrity in that.

I don’t know how to live in a way that isn’t hurtling in some way head first into self destruction. I exhausted myself trying to be good, trying to appear healthy, perfect, impossibly skinny, controlling my food so it was never more than I needed, beautiful, productive, tidy and organised always full of energy but it ran me through, I was balancing and when the slightest breeze knocked me off I gave up and instead self destructed more overtly, not caring how I looked or what I was eating, letting my emotions run riot over me so I was chain smoking and starving and crying and self harming, not picking my clothes up from the floor, not washing my make up off my face, barely scraping by. I don’t know how to find the middle ground. I don’t know how to not hurt myself in some way. I am programmed to self destruct, in the slowest and most unnoticeable way. stealth self destruction.

you’ve got to find the balance between accomplishing stupid chores and living life how you want to live it. but how? this constant push and pull is exhausting. I can’t carve this out, because it’s all too delicate, I’m trying to construct something so fine and precise but all my instruments are too dull and I am too tired.