When I was younger I used to skateboard a lot. Unfortunately I was often to afraid to try doing the big impressive tricks down stairs or railings. I couldn’t bring myself to complete the trick if I were to ollie down more then 3 or 4 steps. So I concentrated on doing tricks on the ground that were fun and mostly safe. Flips, spins and balance were what I focused on the most. Now I don’t know why my fear of failing badly and hurting myself was so invasive when I would skateboard. Perhaps my prior falls and injuries or lack of confidence were to blame. I had friends who had injured themselves just as much but showed no fear.

 It’s beautiful to be anything at all even if you make yourself cringe.

 Sometimes I look back at situations from my life that I could have participated more in. Instead of sitting back I could have possibly done more for myself. Furthered my scope and ambitions. Not that I had much for large parts of my younger life. 

 Sometimes I play music. Like an acoustic guitar and I let myself feel nothing for a moment so I can refocus on the act of purely playing, to find enjoyment in a rhythm or something like that. I spent a lot of my time in this place growing up. Like a bubble of disengagement. Letting the world happen around me while I watched.

 Most of the time sitting back doesn’t get you anywhere but once in a while it can make you feel like the center of the universe.

 Story of my life.

Its driving me insane

    Like a few extra inches would help people ignore my horrible social skills and awkward demeanor. But maybe a few incremental upgrades across the board would help. If you could upgrade yourself to be a little better it would be stupid not to. A real life rpg that let you put some skill points into intelligence for when your co workers make jokes about you that you don’t understand. Of course if we could manipulate such things then it wouldn’t be to far off to believe we could hook up our brains to a computer that brought us into a virtual reality where we could create and manipulate a world of our own. Of course if we could hook our brains up to a computer how much extra knowledge could we obtain. You could expand yourself to experience multiple lives, maybe even thousands at the same time. It wouldn’t take long to where the portion of yourself that existed before would become minuscule in comparison.

Anticipation can be a good place to find my first feelings of anxiousness. The uncertainty of the unknown. It used to make me nervous, anxious and excited. My mind would conjure images of grand adventures and scenarios. I was almost always disappointed. But that’s to be expected when you try to match reality to imagination. I never knew why I couldn’t relinquish the habit of getting lost in the fantastical bizarre land inside my head. I regret not holding onto memories of the realness that surrounded me as a child. The touch and feel of the real world. Not to say I didn’t get dirty as a kid and enjoy the beauty of nature. But I took for granted the environment I had. Because there is so much beauty in the landscapes of nature but also so much boring dull and dead spaces that exist as well.

A balance for me is living in nature and allowing my mind to wonder. The breeze, the warmth of the sun and the ever changing sky are the perfect backdrops for me to find my zen. When I don’t have that my mind goes to an anti zen place. Does my anxiousness come from this? Not only the discomfort I feel but the anticipation of more discomfort to come.

My dream would be to live somewhere that is always warm. I would give a lot to have to never feel the ill touch of winter. It’s cold tendrils sapping away my very essence.This is no exaggeration. I am a much better version of myself in the summer; not that that’s saying much.

I take medication to help with my anxiousness now. They don’t always work so I sometimes have to take a stronger anti anxiety pill. It does make me feel better but the anxious feelings come back eventually. To be honest I don’t know what happens next.

As if I need anyone else to tell me what to believe or who I should or should not be. My minds already producing enough self doubt for a few life times. Misery and suffering come built in. Like the way the mountains just sit there. 

Felling you tonight
But I’m the last on your mind
Looking around at all there is
To see what it is you believe

No truth but mine
So go fuck yourself and I’ll be
I’m sublime of what I got
Power and truth

Were always worth more
Then your tired boring stories
What I got you want
What I want you don’t have

But in this lonely town in this
Lonely time
Your face is worth looking at for a while
Got what I need, no matter for that

Jesus are you still droning on
Like you have something
Worth while to say
On display like my intimacy is what you get
Rather then what you give
Fake it till your marking money then who gives a fuck who you are

Certain smells are distinguishable to others. Like the smell of someone who just smoked crack or the lingering odor of a thrift store purchase. My mother called this poor people smell. Like if you purchase enough of your shit from a thrift store you will end up smelling this certain way. Well anyway. How come vintage stores don’t have this smell? Is it the volume or is it the quality of the old clothing that makes the smell. Is it the value villages and goodwills that makes the cloths smell like that? Like how stores will make there shit store smell like muffins to make you spend more money. The inescapable smell of thrift store clothing will make you think about those horrible stores and want to go back.