On not getting it till you feel it, you’re in the swirl. 

It’s been a minute. And by a minute, I mean six months, about. I’m trying to turn off the critical part of my brain at this moment because it’s biting my ass as we speak, trying to get me to stop writing because none of this is ever good enough. But I’m too harsh on myself, I guess.

Anywho, it’s been a minute, and upon reading everything I wrote, I’ve definitely become stupider, or less knowledgeable, or something, and there’s definitely a lot of stuff that I once knew that just falls out of my head. I’m now less wise, or pretentious, you choose—the difference is slim or just not there at all, or it just depends what perspective you’re coming at this with. What’s the difference between pretentiousness and wisdom? For one, calling yourself wise is pretentious. Calling yourself pretentious is…something else.

Anyway, I stopped writing posts because I just didn’t know what the fuck was happening. I spiraled, and I lost all grip on ever knowing that I could ever parse meaning out of reality. Things one upped themselves on me and proved to me, once again, that I actually know nothing, especially when it comes to human relationships or anything at all. Like that cult. I fell into the same trap twice when I was sure I would never fall into it again. And I learned more about human connection, and the rules of the game. And that you can break the rules.

There’s only so much media you can consume in your lifetime.

This is just to get the gears turning again, or whatever.