Creature of Habit

...and creature of forgetfulness, apathy, envy, confusion.

The Reigning Queen of Mixed Messages.

But, hey, it's alright! It's okay. I just keep it to myself.

Who am I to say anything about anyone, let alone me? A vast majority of the time, I have no idea what I am thinking, what I am feeling. I keep myself from falling asleep at night trying so desperately to figure out how one would tie a necktie out of paper. I wonder if you will marry her and if I will marry him or if marriage is even a thought I would like to entertain.

All too frequently, I am not in control of my thoughts.

Schizophrenia is only 50% inheritable after all, Sam.

Did you know that I was born with a heart murmur?
Yeah, me neither.

Oh well, though.

I am a professional at moving on and changing my mind and who knows when it will finally stop? And then I think about it,



...and I realize I don't want my mind to stop changing. I don't mind tying up loose ends every time my heart forgets to close the door. I don't mind spending weeks thinking up a storm and pulling the rug out from under myself. (and yet I still can't do cartwheels.) I don't mind floating. That is what I am good at.

Floating and lion-yawning and falling.
{I am very good at falling.}

I am just scared that I will always look before I jump.
That I will never really ask advice for the advice, just permission to do what I knew I should've.

There is always something.

Right?
Right you are!

For now, ambiguity is all that I can muster, but I am brimming with specifics.

Someday,
I will find another something stupid to say, and I will scream it with all of everything I have ever known behind it.

I just don't know yet.
I'm just sitting on the shelf.

(angst!)