Just Stuff...

It's been a while since I've been here, but if I were to lament that, I would spend a great deal of time talking about nothing important in particular.

1)The death of the teacher.

Clearly, this whole teacher student romance didn't work out so well. I believe I wrote a grand total of one installment, then just kind of let it dwindle. I considered letting it go, but there is the hint of a challenge to it. The whole subject is something outside of my comfort zone, which is why I don't want to give it up quite yet. I might call it a project on the side. Something to work on in between projects, or when I need a release. Besides that, it will remain an uncomfortable memory.

2) What's going on?

I have been busy and not busy at the same time. Spring Break has come and gone, but little of what I had intended has been accomplished. It happens every year. I leave with the intention of  locking myself in a room to work for hours each day until I have successfully completed many tasks. Unfortunately, this never happens. I could blame it on family, travel, circumstances, or mental fatigue. I could blame it on a lot of things, but the fact of the matter is, it didn't happen and that is my fault. I won't drone on and on about my failure, but it exists.

3) Crazy?

Could I be crazy? It was suggested to me that my, sometimes seemingly precarious mental state could be more than the standard struggles of a college student. Maybe I'm clinically insane like I had feared, or maybe hoped. Maybe there's something hormonally off that make me a natural crackpot. Something is screwed up in my head. I knew that, but does science know it too?

Here's the problem. In order to find out, I may have to confront one of humanities most frightening creatures. A shrink. Sure, they're just people who aim to help. But they are frightening. Their purpose is to invade the sacred space of the mind, usually with kind intentions. Even so, an intrusion is just that. A breach in the safety net built up after years of mental self defense. All of a sudden, they expect the patient to let go of every hard earned safeguard so that they may spill their soul to a stranger. Hardly.

And what happens then? Once you become accustomed to this vulnerability? There is the ever present fear that you will be destroyed. Your gates are wide open, and there is no one stopping  the slings and arrows that life may throw. Even more broken than broken, you are led to a state where the only way to return to safety is to pay with blood to get medication and opinions from one plaque boasting official after another.

How is this supposed to help?



Just some stuff that was on my mind. Later, I'll add a piece I've been struggling with. I know that it is horrendous, but I cannot find it in me to try to improve it. Maybe the fear of public ridicule will provide some motivation.

Until next time.