Brain Chirp

I feel like reverse Isaac Mendez. Maybe it is not the future I could draw, however: I can only write so when I think in many miles per hour, and not when it is eerily muted

I think I'm a fan of tweezers. Or at least, I like people who needs them. Today, I thought I got sick of using them, so I stopped for a while. Using tweezers gets you really tired long term. But then, the one in need didn't bother to help me use the tweezers at all.  Was it them that really needed the tweezers, or it was me that needed them used on the special people? So I ended up using them again. Told them that historically, they have been in situations that required tweezers. They said nothing.  Maybe I got them used to the tweezers so much that they forgot that they needed to use it themselves at all? Did I rob them of the opportunity to not need tweezers anymore?  Every time I say I will stop, my prophecies come true. Then, how shall I ever stop? I just organized another tweezer session, for the people that were supposed to initiate it themselves. Will I ever learn?  Which one will I ever learn? How to use tweezers better to pull out words, or letting them go? ...

Thought it was finally going to be fine. It looked up once again. Finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Or so I thought. Was it all an illusion?  Actually just another period of being "fine", before it all comes crushing down again? What happened to the cornflakes? Or is it just a tingle of the toe? This is indeed the weirdest "numb" I have ever felt.

Am I… …Like a “usuality” that exists within the space, that it stops getting noticed? Just something that became a habitual circumstance? I feel my affection tainted. Only to get it back when things are in danger. Like a toy one would care about only if it threatened to disappear.

Sometimes you just have the best environment, time and overall setting perfectly aligned for something you normally like to do. Everything is perfect, almost. Except for the fact that you just blank out, it is loud. Suddenly feeling lost, yet the weirdly comforting perfect circumstances are still there. The planets aligned just for you, yet you suddenly cannot decide which spell to cast. What can that look like? A quiet night, no obligations the day after. Cozy lights, calm music in a book nook model. Ideas spinning around for some stories, yet none of them click. An empty document right in front of you. You have some time, a lot of inspiration to feed on, motivation and even goals, concrete ones. Yet you just cannot open the case of your instrument. The gear is all there, you know what you want to do, yet the exercise routine never starts. It used to be so easy. Or was it ever? Finally it is all there, you see your progress with a skill, maybe a language, be it a natural one or other...

It is quite odd, not being able to trust your own gut. All the what-could-have-beens that plague my mind. Now they are all coming back. I'm bitter, oh I am so bitter. What is this profound, deep feeling that will eventually lead to complete numbness? (Dumb question.) Am I bitter at my ordinance? My health? Would I think of things myself, if I were not ailed by aimless pursuits? How spoiled and inconstant, the being I am. Forever ailed by "what could have been"s,  Plagued by the "ideal me" in a parallel universe, even though I know how illogical it is. I know I need to focus on now & above & beyond. The issue is, I cannot stop feeling subparm even though I am aware of what I carved for myself is decent enough. Then, why am I... or, do I feel full of regrets? Ridiculous.