This period in my life feels alien.
Some days I can't break out of my own thoughts and I'm all consumed in a battle to feel better. Stronger. More connected. Less stressed. Then there's other days, sometimes flowing in succession, in which I am a detached onlooker of my behaviours. This period of observation exposes how easy it can be to ruminate in resentment and dejection.
I'm arrogantly absorbed by these things, these feelings that have no relevance to how strong I am, how much stress I place onto or absorb from others, or how connected I am to the world around me.
I have more information about myself than I have ever had before. I'm 28. I know shit. At least shit about how I function best. And I know that I don't know even more about the actual world than how much I think I know.
It's another new good start. I want to learn and love and stay steady in the ebb and the flow of those two pulses.
This is not alien. This drive is as organic to life as the salt is to the surf.
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