Fuck these mood swings and fuck this roller coaster. I want to stay in my box.
I just had this random urge to throw out the goodbyes I wrote months ago and start over again. Why? What is the point if I can’t even leave? Stay in your box and board up the doors, there is no respite from the torrent outside. Don’t do this again.
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I have stood right where you are standing. The only way I got past it was walking forward. Which many days felt pointless. Sometimes even today, especially this week, seems pointless. But it is habit now. One foot in front of the other. It one point I threw away everything ever written to me. I threw away every thing I wrote. I’ve had points I have deleted entire folders of paintings and poetry because I didn’t want anyone to ever see any of if it. Regardless of quality. Staying in my box is safe. Walking forward in my box is impossible, but sometimes that cozy box is how I make it to the next hour of my life. Oh how I understand.
I just wish the way forward wasn’t so bumpy.
I have no other way to go but forward. I appreciate the encouragement.