back to our regular programming

grey today, the clouds outside make the air feel smothery, it's humid and not grossly hot, with a bit of a campfire twinge to it from all the burning up our state has been doing. pre-thunderstorms, i like. still like, despite the way the pressure change seems to twist my shoulder up in new ways. odd, the ways a favorite thing can stay a favorite thing, even if it hurts you.

i have been writing so much this week. can't sleeping and that inkrun itch in the ends of fingers that only makes it harder to sleep. i'm in a weird place, these days. ever since june abated all of my fate-resigned morosing, and hey, whoa! i don't have cancer, i feel like i've spent the month untying all the little nots i had done up so nicely. spent six months with a silent rule of no-new-attachments. not liking people. not caring anymore about little things, not caring about anything besides little things. the nots you can't put into words because you never laid them out anywhere but in your head and your hesitancy.

since i'm the kind of person who loves and heartbreaks with every step, i felt like i had straightjacketed all my most... me... bits, just to try and cope. oh, i pity and envy people who don't feel every little thing so keenly. empathy is a gift, and it's one that i have been squandering this year, in my unspoken allowance of selfishnesses. oh it amazes me the ways you react when you feel like you're staring down your own mortality. the stupid things that you do. i have spent the first half of this year counting my regrets. there were more, and less, than i expected, or remembered. and when you think of those things, it seems to be impossible for dreams to not be dyed in the colors of nostalgia and possibility. my subconscious, in only the cruel, merciful way that a subconscious can, gifted me more do-overs than i knew what to do with.

imagination is the greatest key to empathy. and, being the selfish clod that any human can be at times, i spent much time empathizing with all of my little parallel universes. and i can conclude that, honestly, i am glad to be in this one. experience has made me so very much me. some people say that we're here to learn from our mistakes. some people are wrong. we're here to learn from our experience. not all experience comes from mistakes. i keep thinking about that this week.

i have had two new max dreams this week. short and sweet, but i had them. they give me hope. hope is such a nice feeling. perhaps the best there is. and someday, sometime, when i am in the right mood for such very personal divulgences, and perhaps if you ask me nicely, i will explain max to you, and put him here, to be immortalized and kept behind the tiny little bars of all these insufficient words.