The last line from A Novel of Thank You by Gertrude Stein is: “This is the difference between this and that.”
Already I can feel this shift. From waking up this morning with a feeling of everything’s all right, this afternoon has been good and promising. Despite the piling mounds of work, looming deadlines and the feeling of faking-it, I feel true happiness to be where I’m at right now. This morning, I’ve removed the barriers, letting that joie seep into the other aspects of my life.
I didn’t mean to push against you so hard. Do you understand that my reaction stems from feelings of insecurity, from desire to have you be my everything? I now understand that at this moment in time, you can’t be what I would like you to be, you can’t give me as much as I greedily want. But it’s all right, alright? The second you make the choice I hope you will, I am – we are – going to be so amazingly fine. Hang in there love, and get ‘er done. I’m waiting patiently so we can start creating together. Only if it’s meant to be, time will let us know. Life has finally taught me at least one brutal and violent lesson about patience. I can be it now – watch, you’re going to be proud.
Cognitively trying to map out my life, my world. Locating myself spatially, in this plane and others. Coming to realise that existing in other planes doesn’t preclude survival in the real, and the real’s not as scary as I thought it was. I’m dipping my toe in now and the water feels warm. Reassured with knowing that I can’t possibly mess up anymore I don’t think. So it’s time to start coping with repercussions and consequences cheerily.
I want to be one of those people who are a joy to be around. I want people to light up when they see me, and not inwardly groan at whatever new drama I find myself in. I used to be like that, not too long ago. I’m through with all the unnecessary, cutting it off bit by bit. Also conducting a dramatic post-mortem, trying to find out how I ended up in certain situations, why I was complicit in the amount of strife and bs that happened this year. Not being too harsh on self, but just checking in and identifying destructive behaviours. I’m tired of trying to cope in an unhealthy way, crutches can only carry you so far before they’re a hindrance to survival.
On my way somewhere today, I realised that I had also cut myself off from the city – ironic because the entire rest of my life is going to be involved with urban space. I’m being pushed back in faster than my legs can carry me, and I need to be more involved in witnessing how the city around me changes with all this new learning. It’s all so breathtaking, I need to once again make a choice to consciously witness, my surroundings this time.
Time to walk around again with MF Doom in my ears, writing storylines in my head while I wait on street corners for the light to change.