• whenever i prioritize myself i always fuck things up / and up deeply dissatisfied. continue working in service for others directly – if suffering is always embedded in either process then at least one has some positive outcome
• nothing i make for myself will ever be as good as the things i make for others
• nothing i make for myself will ever be as meaningful as the things i make for others
• i don’t think self-expression or my personal interests is the go-to thing for me at this time? feels like a joke to work on it honestly. the world is dying and it’s worth nothing. what story can be worth telling of this
• every vision other than mine, the stories worth telling
if truly had something worth saying someone else would like to hear it directly from me (?)
• it’s so funny how quickly i turn back on myself before anything else
• like i don’t even believe in myself so why would anyone believe in qnything i’m working on rn
• why do i like to form things and then want to detach myself from them. that’s not the right mindset if i want things to originate / seed from *me*, maybe more worth focusing on realizing someone else’s dreams
• to do this until their dream becomes mine etc
• not having a dream that starts from yourself shouldn’t be sad. selfless, martyr-like, qt least a dream is realized instead of many other attempts. originality doesnt even matter in dreaming, really
• the idea of following in someone’s dream touted as strong in men, submissive in women. as if she never got to live a life. the divorce/home improvement story in the atlantic: why a man can talk about himself leaving to chase something larger because it *is* a larger thing, whereas the biggest thing a woman can chase is the family and the creation of human beings who will chase their own things
• i need to tell stories that aren’t mine
• the relegation of some humans’ purpose to produce humans with more worthwhile purpose
• the idea of someone following your dream deeply; how does this relate to love
• to love: not in blind faith, but in believing enough to question; to share a dream; to pursue something even when its outcome is undefined; to believe that process will overrule the journey, because faith in process / human existence is all about diminishing variables in an indeterminate world; this is why love is attributable to certainty, choice, to believing in “this” where “this” is ever-shifting (the person, circumstance, ways)
• but is the sad thing that i have a very specific path/desire and have never before distrusted myself so much
• talking about my own desires/dreams/wants/needs feels so futile, ignorant — feels like a joke externally + to myself; like i know nothing about this is logical (but how often have i been letting myself feel illogical things, wallowing in some suffering). feels like a joke / i am probably a joke right now / i am giving up everything for nothing
• started wearing a scapular, for some reason it’s only ever given to the men in my family so i bought my own. it feels stupid to have to buy something to save yourself. at least in one religion/belief system there is proof that i tried to be saved, or something like that.
• • why does everything i believe in sound so ludicrous and inane, when can i feel that someone believes in me, etcetc.etcetc. it’s a lonely life, to always have to make things for yourself and to live in a void, and if i do this then i have every right to dictate when i want it to be over
• • • to make and feel nothing + try making other things and feel nothing over and over again. not even what i produce can substitute for feeling anymore
• what is the point of self-expression if my ‘self’ is unimportant. i am trying so hard to make myself ‘important’, to make myself ‘matter’, to make myself ‘known’ that i have not even questioned if i am worth knowing. do i even have stories worth telling. do i even have a purpose other than to give others purpose.
• is the magic thing about me the way i suffer and can ignore it; and how i can turn all of these thoughts on and off if i try really really hard
• but it’s been hard to do so lately–no, it’s been hard for a long time
• this list as another way of saying: suddenly (but expectedly), i resent everything i love
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