Watched Pot Never

By: L.

Mar 14 2015

Category: self

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Aperture:f/5.6
Focal Length:55mm
ISO:800
Shutter:1/30 sec
Camera:Canon EOS 350D DIGITAL

I am hearing you, body.  Got the message, loud and clear.  I am definitely taking all of this to heart.

The thing that the shaman said that I thought might be other than as she said it, was that I needed this whole year to figure some shit out for myself.  That I needed to accept the Void rather than try and fill it, to paraphrase.

I thought that this whole thing was just chaos inserting its nose in my business, screwing things up, and calling on me to just hurry up and deal with it.  But I don’t think that’s right.  I think it’s becoming more and more apparent that I can do what I need to do this year or next year or any year, but until I really do go through the work

I had a diet fuck up today.  A lot of little allowances that snowballed into a big situation of fuck everything and I ate emotionally and excessively for dinner.

Of course, I want to say that it wasn’t related to the fact that it’s been a week since I’ve gotten a letter from the guy and I don’t know, the combination of that and the fact that I was getting myself all snazzy at the hair salon at great expense and the hairstylist who I like and who remembers shit about my life (the pink hair may be a memorable request) asked me about various gossipy topics and talked to me about my romantic possibilities and I just get so sick of saying, no, I’m just happy on my own, or no, nobody right now or no…I played with the idea of oh, there might be someone, from the internet, it’s no big deal…maybe in a couple of weeks or…and she was so goddamned happy for me for just breezing the notion of going on a date with someone in the hypothetical future that I squirmed about in my chair, feeling the lie spin around me and bite me right under my fingernails. I looked at myself under that big, iridescent cape and thought really terrible things about myself even if I ended up liking what she did with my hair and how she cut the bangs.  When I got to my car, all I could think was how I wanted to get in bed and just eat for a while.  There was no little voice saying, nah, or let’s not…or let’s take a breath.

So I did that.  Feel gross.  Still no letter. I wanted to lose weight, didn’t I? I wanted the past two and half months to mean something, right?  I don’t know.  Probably.  This self-worth that exists only when I’m getting external validation isn’t worth much.  I love this camp shirt with ladybugs even though it feels big on me and I know that unnerves me.  My hair is cute, my bangs are cute, I just need to get full, not sick.

Tomorrow.  Tomorrow’s going to be a day of acting rather than reacting.  Plan!

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