I’ve been in this existential crisis over the past few years trying to re-invent myself–by recognizing the shit around me, apparently–which when I cut it off right there without an explanation–seems pretty fucking stupid. I mean…you want a positive slant, a lifting spin on your designation, why the fuck would you constantly be looking at all the wrong shit?? I don’t even know how the hell that came to be in my life–why and when did I get some entrenched in the news and its constant cycles of dread. I keep reading about this fear of missing out. I don’t fear missing out on anything but information. I am usually so well read on current events that when people start talking about it, it’s usually sunk into my consciousness a few days which really doesn’t do a hell of a lot in terms of giving me any more peace, or piece– of mind. It fills my brain, sure, but instead of my brain being filled with hopeful shit I am totally burning down houses and bridges and expectation of anything else but pure chaos. I am always a few days in front of most stories and honestly–being this in the know hasn’t done a hell of a lot for my peace of mind.
I mean…if you read the sheer volume of news I seem to consume in a day, a week, a month–well, you might feel a little fucking anxiety prone and insane as well. You might see everything as utterly pointless and generally with conception of how it all might impact your life and the lives of humanity. Why I am so concerned when I am just an ant or a speck in regards to existence? Beyond me. I am not doing it anymore. Does this mean I haven’t checked the news periodically throughout even this whole composition period (which honestly was started three or four hours ago)–no. It doesn’t. What it does mean is I am done being the person disseminating the bad news all the time. If you want to know something terrible going on in the world today, I am your go to girl. I can tell you shit that would make you lose hope and give up. Hell, that is a war I am having with myself all of the fucking time these days. Sometimes when I read something super fucking inspiring and full of life I feel the need to–share it with a few people but generally it’s like I am hoarding the shit out of the good stories and just piling on the dread to the bad ones.
We all need more paths to escapism, more opportunities to not be so fucking entrenched in the chaos. I mean…man there is somewhere terrible my mind just went to where we could go–but for now how about a little uppity happier something or other.
Speaking of which…what are your go to happy sites?
I will share a few here:
Leave a Reply