I often want to blog when I’m sad, but then I almost never know what to write and, if I write anything, I’m usually quite reluctant to post it. I just want it to be articulated, so I can identify what it is and then stamp it flat and go back to being fine again.
I think it has something to do with feeling torn in half by emigration, and lonely in the sense that I want to confide in someone, but I don’t know what to say or who to speak to. I’m a bit unmoored today. Tonight. Shit, it’s late. Why am I awake?
Last year, these things would’ve reduced me to a grey saline gloop, but now I’m just a bit… numb? and that weirds me out. I’m abstractly sad, in the same way I’m abstractly excited for upcoming events and abstractly hopeful about the future and also abstractly pessimistic about everything. I feel a bit floaty and disconnected. Lack of sleep, perhaps.
I just need to get out and socialise and try not to think about how fast time goes and how nothing stays the same and everything ends. Is there a pill I can take to purge myself of sentimentality? A vaccine against homesickness? Something to patch up self-doubt and stimulate productivity and social bravery? No? Well, shit.
Oh, brain. Why do you do this?
Things will be better when the sun comes up. Positive thinking. Sunshine. Bananas. Meditation. Family. Home-cooking. Living in the moment. Lucky, lucky, lucky. Yesss. Ok. Onward.