All of the Comforts to my Cold

@cuntbastardfuck

My friends tell me that my love and laughter are contagious...like Chlamydia. My life is full of even more sores.

494 posts

Anxiety is a strange haunting. The feeling of confronting a situation that I’ve built in my head that will be completely uncomfortable. But also who gives a shit? It’s two days and I can hike, and do other things too.

He loved me the best he could, but he preferred drugs to women, and I preferred him to drugs. He chose anything from cigarettes to heroine over me, but for a human, he loved me the most. Unfortunately, that was okay with me for too long, even though it never was. I ached. He ached. We ached together, but for different vices that never loved us back the way we needed.

He got high. I got high.

Lying

Sometimes it’s a fucking curse to be so good at lying. Especially in days like today where we photograph and print every god damn motion of our lives, portraying the best versions of ourselves that only exist on Instagram. The real world hardly exists in comparison to our self-promoting conceptions of self. I hate the contoured, filtered replications that masquerade as real life. What is real life if you’re not posting and updating?

I keep running and I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to stop running. I don’t know how to fix it - to fix myself. So what can I do? How do I keep running - keep pretending? What are my options?

Let’s see, so if I did finish up my semester in Bozeman. Then moved to Billings. I think that would be the more feasible option.

So how do I make a lot of money fast? I’m seriously considering webcamming if I can make easy money that way, but I don’t even know how to get a thing like that started. I could also do the beach body thing, and put aside my pure hatred of social media.

I just need to make money fast so I can pay all this shit back and not be left stranded....out of money....out of life.

I know if I can get past this current mind fog, then I could do something.....something amazing. I really want to go to the border and help fight for basic human rights. I hate all the fucked up, racist shit that is going on right now. It’s horrible, and I can’t do anything about it currently.

Money and education

So I guess I used to be money driven, but I’ve been phasing out of this motivation. The question is what motivates me nows?

Back then my parents gave me $20 for straight A’s, and that was enough for me 14-18. Then college came and I still craved A’s but not for the reasons I used to, but because I took that grade as an evaluation of self. When I was young, I did a lot of opiotea, but I got straight A’s and those A’s were a measurement that assured me that I was okay - that my addiction was under control - that I wasn’t an addict because I wasn’t stealing or causing anyone around me harm in order to get what I want and addicts don’t get good grades; therefore, my addiction was not an addiction. I was okay.

I guess I no longer can take grades an assessment of character and value. A’s didn’t do much for me then - they didn’t act as a signifier if my well-being, rather they justified my behavior. Now, I educate myself to expand and diversify my knowledge so I can with compassion dimensionally - so I can commiserate, rather than sympathize.

Collaboration

It’s everywhere around me, I appreciate it blooming during these dark times

I never know who I am or where I am, but I know the difference between right and wrong, even if I act indifferently. My own behavior is a mystery because I have a tendency to react, when I have the privilege to respond. I struggle with the fight because I was raised a fighter.

Now there aren’t as many fights as there once was. So how I dissolve me without dissolving me entirely?

I am grateful for long talks with both my mother and Rachel.

Grateful for getting up early, and the lack of stress I feel, even though I had trouble sleeping.

For my ability and passion to write

For candles, cigarettes, and green tea

I am grateful for my thyroid medication and a bedroom full of plants.

For feeing as if I see a light at the end of a dark, dismal tunnel

I like to taste the boys who taste like cigarettes

I guess I never know in what direction I’m headed. I struggle to find out what matters to me and why. I know I want to become a great listener, but to do that I have to untangle the disconnection I have with myself. I struggle between pushing myself manic with way too much and taking sleeping pill after sleeping pill in order to escape it all. I do everything or nothing at all. I’ve never been acquainted with balance or any pace that resembles medium. I go and go and go until I implode, which often leads to an explosion of drunk screaming or wilted crying in my bed. I just don’t know enough, and I don’t know how to do it any differently.

It’s kind of this idea that you can only be raped so many times until you’re really truly fucked. Then what?

When your sister tells you how much you look her son

Grat 2/2/18

I am grateful for Rachel Sammie and Alina and Mary.

For sore arms and a sore body.

For poop.

Yoga, goats, outside.

Grat Jan 31 2018

I am grateful for bedtime with Rachel and Sammie.

Grateful for all the baby goats.

For getting up early.

Feeling motivated.

Grat Jan 26 2018

I am grateful for the Taylors and that I get the privilege of picking them up from the airport.

Grateful for a productive morning of breakfast, yoga, and chores with Rachel.

That I’m okay today.

All of the Comforts to my Cold @cuntbastardfuck - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag