I’m volatile right now, I feel. I can see it in my transactions, in my expressions. I can tell I’m in a perturbed state and taking my frustrations out as cudgels. I’m divided in my angst, but enamoured in potential. Consistency has to prevail somehow, despite all this madness. I’m feeling tippy and that’s not so good. I’m responding poorly, but thankfully, I have a place to vent my thoughts. I have this sanctum to bite on as though it were my pillow. I have real feelings somewhere under here, like pain and sadness that are unresolved and won’t be. I’m trying to accept my environment, circumstance and mistakes with openness.
So yes, volatile. Feeling like I need to get back to my creative writing, which I have been trying to use as a coping tool. I can’t do much but express myself and get these words out of me. I’m glad this process is so effective at dispensing with my negative thoughts and has for more than 6 years. I’ve drenched cyberspace with my rants, outrage and idiocy unceasingly. It has been both satisfying and revolting.
Okay, off to my world to create some killer fiction.