I was going to do another How I Write today, but I’m not feeling it. I’m not sure what I’m feeling, to be honest. I wasn’t going to post today, but my goal this year is to post every week, and with the exception of maybe one week, I’ve done that. So today might just be a quick blarp into the universe about how it’s all right to have off days or something.
I try to put positivity into the world because there’s just so much negative nonsense going on, but it’s exhausting at times to be the bubble. I feel like that sounds a bit boo hoo Belinda, but really. I’m not always excited about life. There are more than doldrums that bog my joy down, and while I don’t always feel like talking about it, I think it’s important not to stifle those moments when they come. I tell people to let themselves feel what they feel, and yet when it comes to myself I tend to be really harsh and deny myself the advice I give others. I know this is not new to the world. This behavior is not unique to me.
But there’s a loneliness in it. There’s an emptiness that threatens to turn bitter like the aftertaste of an artificial sweetener. What you think is familiar is actually damaging more than you let yourself think. Wallowing is different than steeping, and I feel as long as I’m wallowing, I’ll be salvageable.
I’m going to go get some work done around the house, and I’m going to remember it’s okay to feel like an oversteamed potato every once in a while. The key to it is to remember to come back. Not to let it take root in your mind and become a gnarled mess you have to untangle later, when it’s worse.
With that said, here’s a photo of some fake flowers I bought myself yesterday because I had rewards points and I wanted to get myself something pretty.
salisbury.fake 