Over the years, many people have told me that I’m comfortable to talk to. I think that’s because of an important life skill I believe others should learn, too. What is it?
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Another Conversation Among Deranged Writers II: Notes to Self XXXI
2019
One humid yet emotionally cold afternoon, I was missing someone more than usual, even though it had been months since our bridge burned. And then I remembered it was that person’s birthday. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to send a simple, casual greeting for the occasion, so I pulled my phone, quickly texted it, and went on with my normally depressing day.
Past midnight, after pigging out on my third plate of baked macaroni in four hours, I took my nightly medicine and dozed off. There, I was teleported to a part of dreamland I’d never been before, and I’m a pretty vivid dreamer. I entered this almost-vast coliseum-like courtroom with chains covering the ceiling, and people were in their chairs like confident judges. After a minute, my eyes became much clearer: the ones in their seats were alternate versions of me.
Continue reading Another Conversation Among Deranged Writers II: Notes to Self XXXI
Notes to Self XXIX & XXX
Since yesterday, I have had a big ball of fuming frustration in my chest, and tonight I need to let it out. This is a double-feature Notes to Self.
Trigger warning: Themes of mental illness and anxiety. Please be advised.
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