I again did not continue writing every day. I do not try to find an excuse, as there is non other than my lack of focus and determination. Except that one day that I hiked a volcano and took a naked picture of myself while it was erupting. And yes, this is actually true. But anyways, I am back and I have to admit, my trial of 30 day consecutive writing has failed. I do have to say it does not leave a good taste and I am disappointed in myself. It is, what I feared would happen and well, as I would say, where attention goes, energy flows. Thus: voila. It is these little encounters with myself that make me hesitate to go for anything big that would need consecutive action, persistence, some perseverance, some endurance. I have been one of the almost top ten runners in my country in my early days, so I should know about endurance, but well, maybe I am a case of loosing it over time it seems. I think though I rather have the problem of endurance to a certain point until I force to take a break and then enjoying the break so much that I refuse to pick up work or the project again. Which leads me to enhance for another thing, which might soon after be doomed to have the same destiny. Which leads me to believe I can't get out of the viscous circle. But enough of the 'here is why I keep failing' crap and let's focus on the only thing I can do in a situation like this: I accept the defeat and I try again. I pick up the work, the pen, well, the keyboard really, and keep working on my project. It is that which seperates the successful from the failures eventually. Because who said that you only fail when you stop trying? Ah these sayings, so true and so powerful, so easy to be said and yet so hard to be lived. It is like hiking a mountain. Looks easy on a map, sucks when the legs are empty and there is no oxygen. But still, I have to just keep going on. Eventually, this is my victory, so small and meaningless for the stars, but yet a big thing for me and my relationship towards myself.
Talking about stars, they are effing beating the living shits out of us it seems. the last two days felt unreal and I know that when even a butterfly's sound of his wings make me irritated, I gotta be careful about what I say and do, and I know there is some other frequencies and stardust tweaking us. But so these days have been a good challenge for me to love myself. Because isn't it those moments when we suck and fail the most, that we have the greatest opportunity to learn, increase and show the love we hold for ourselves? You might be thinking I is not making any sense. But think of it: you just messed up. You bitched to the wrong person, hate everything you normally love, you scratched your moms car and forgot about your friends birthday. You just failed about everything you could have failed at today. How do you feel about yourself? Not so good maybe, right? Yeah. Now what an opportunity to learn to do so! What a challenge to yet still love yourself while you know you could have done so much better and maybe wasted a whole day by just being a bitch to life and your close ones, your hobbies and yourself. What an class! What a class to now more than ever choose to yet still love yourself. Forgive yourself while you can't find reasons as to why, love yourself whilst not knowing what for. That is what I just learned today.
So yes, I am sorry, I am so sorry for being rude, being mean, being a bitch. I am sorry for everything I did not support, care and love today. And it does seem to include myself. I can't focus because my friend seems to be stupid to not get that I am writing. He keeps interrupting every ten seconds while I barely answer. In me, I start cooking. I boil. Why the fuck would he not stop? Can't he see that I am typing? I mean I have been doing it for 25 minutes, should be clear, no? It went on until I couldn't remember what it was I wrote down and I said: Do you do this on purpose? And he goes: what? and I say: Don't you see what I am doing? No. What are you doing? Trying to write, I am concentrating. He goes: Oh. That's what you are doing. Perfect. You have to tell me. And it is there where I have to admit I really struggle loving me. Because I don't say anything but expect him to notice. I feel bad about asking for something but expect people to know it by themselves. I try to manipulate my environment to do so without me having to say it out loud. Because I am scared of disappointments, rejection, hatred. So I prefer to keep myself low, while I continue to boil more and more. I am a silly stuffer and loving me for it and while I do it, whilst knowing that a simple expression would help, is not that easy. I know it could be easy, but easy is not good, I believe. Why? Because it is easy. It is effective. How many times have I done the hard way, because I believe it is better, earned, more deserved.
My friend just came in and said he is sorry for disturbing my creativity. It is all about communication, he said. And I said, I am sorry for not saying anything and being so passive aggressive. And he said: I love you. And I said, that is what I try to do so myself right now. We laugh, we have peace.
Easy actually is pretty cool.