It has been a few of those weeks, back-to-back with hormone imbalance, female-specific plague, bad timing and passion that brought me here. One night specifically was so full of mental bullshit (pacing, paralysis, tears) that I pulled the plug, swallowed a few Nyquil tablets and started over. As a Crazy, sometimes you have to tranquilize yourself before you really fuck up the bigger picture; I awoke the next morning, the world and life still operational.
Perhaps parting from my beloved vacation sent me spiraling – birthday month, after all, is over. And there is still a mess to clean. The pathways of my brain weren’t clear to begin with and I had to dump a load of confetti and sequins on top of my issues, parading around with every care temporarily buried. The ghosts approach me now, dusting off the streamers, body glitter on their grey skin, glittering monotone silver. What kind of a joke is anything that I have to worry about?