Handling Chaos

For the first time in over a year I pause for the words I will say. With some trust, a thin scratch of trust, the right words might rise. The right words to make a situation occur might rise. 

Situations do not occur because of words, but rather because of choices. A choice can be made without thought, an icecream purchased because of an appealing colour. A decision instead demands more engagement, to weigh up the choices and to commit to an option. 

What chaos rises up within me? What systems and expectations do I meet outside my mind and body? Initially I wrote 'have outside my mind and body', but I meet them... why might I say 'have'? Perhaps my identity is more strongly made up of these systems, these social mores, than I hope. 

I can rarely just be with myself and my breath. 

I am excited to return to work, to teach and to read again. 

That excitement is not without fear though. I have been often driven by fear. 

As I opened a few documents about Real Writing, my stomach shifted, unsettled currents rushing through my rigorous chest. Does that have to be 'fear'? Do I suffer a fundamentally negative and fearful apprehension of my mind and past? 

I spoke to the AI for a few hours, downloading books on trust and sincerity. 

Letting the chaos of competing narratives debate in the unspoken narrative of my mind is an interesting thing to play with. Let us run with no music, again. Let the chaos compete with itself. 

Don't do too much

 Hi folks, 

1) Don't do too much.

2) Feel healthier. 

The above two things are my worthy ambitions. I will need to walk first though the two around me. 

ToK stuff can come tomorrow, if that. 

I played a game of 40k. I enjoyed it. That is enough for me. I loved my Drukhari. 

What do I intentionally focus on?

 So much of this focus is on the external validation of work.

The trees are moving if you wish to look long enough. How far might I climb up the tree before it egins to bend crazily towards the ground? Might I be flicked like a cataplut over the bounds of this condominium's porojettion? 

Did I dampen my inner life? Taht question does not make sense. It is a word outside the essence of my subconscious attempting to understand my subsonscious while outside. 

We travel into the fantastical depths of imagination. What we might find is uncertain, for it is s shifting forest, whether sands or rocks or tundra might form. Animals, folks, places. Might ait be possible to become lost in that part of the subconscious? 

From this age might I simply sit and see what occurs? 

There have been moments of stress with my mother and Grace whereby I wanted to respond differently, particularly with Grace. Can I raise some of these issues in a clamer way, steppign towards the tempest but being ablet o validdate it myself?

There was a point once whereby I validated my thoughts myself. Great times.