Perhaps a stumble…

Falling, tumbling, etc… My brain is nearing done. I don’t know what form or type or anything, but…..fuck. it’s been a rough go and I’m tired, man.

I don’t really know what to say about that or anything, really. I have plans to do stuff, art related or otherwise. But I’m getting some pretty gnarly input and it’s stating to override, if you get what that means.

I can take a lot. I can take on a lot. I can handle my shit and I can handle others’ shit and have done so for decades. I know this. I got this. But, fuck it’s heavy. I want like….I don’t know. Just breathing is laborious, if you know what I mean. My own inhales and exhales carry weight that’s not solely from the fat gut I’ve developed over the past 19 months.

Pancakes and Booze is on the 22nd of this month. And I was looking forward to being a participant this year, rather than an attendee that scored some good local art. My “looking forward” feelings are dwindling, yo. I’m not well. I know this.

So, tonight, I’m going to lie down, put my head on a pillow (I’m so lucky to have that), try to rest and, maybe when I wake tomorrow, things will be different. It’s not that I’m ungrateful for life. I just need to say that I practice gratitude daily. Seriously. I’m fucking lucky and fortunate. I have a roof. I have a bed. I have a goddamn pillow in my bed. I have cozy blankets. I say, into the ether, every day and every night, how lucky I am.

Shit’s just bad, though. I have a lot of “input”. You know. The voices, the visual shit. My meds are being adjusted (I’m lucky enough to have meds). I don’t want to go on more. I don’t want to go back to the heavy ones. I just really wish I had more control over my brain and the operations there in.

Alright, enough whining and rambling. I’m out. Sleep well, y’all.


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