#going to photosynthesize myself everyday to keep the SAD away

[dove-da-birb]

So I'm getting a sun lamp

[theperksofbeingashleyray]

write it all down. everything you’d like to say to him. write what you really feel but would never say, write what you would never tell anyone, write what you would never admit to yourself. get high and write something that doesn’t make sense. write.  i think that this is all leading somewhere. maybe not where i want it to lead. but somewhere. i’m not going to be delusional like the movies anymore and say that it’s leading back to there. that there’s going to be a long drawn out period of events just so we can end up at each other’s doorstep the ~right~ way. that’s stupid and insane and exactly what i shouldn’t be thinking right now. but it is leading somewhere. and i realized some things about myself and the world around me in those three days and they’re what’s making me do what i’ve always needed to do and they’re what’s making me work on myself. like, actually work on myself, the way i never did before. i mean actually fix myself, not just fill the holes in me with someone  who makes me feel like i’m fixed. i have to fix myself because if i’m not fixed i can’t do good for others. i want to do good for others. i feel like that’s my purpose and that’s the first step i’ve made towards figuring out my life in years.  my mom used to say that god has a plan for me. i don’t know if i believe in god or a supreme being or whatever, but if there is one, it’s not the way my mom thinks it is. but when i told her i didn’t want to be religious anymore, she sat me down and had this long talk with me. basically, her and my dad really wanted to have a kid, but i guess my mom had some issues that made it really difficult for her to get pregnant. anyway, they went through all this stuff trying to have a baby and maybe even had a miscarriage once before they kind of gave up. and then my mom became pregnant unexpectedly during the time when the probability was lowest. and she had a lot of issues with the pregnancy, and basically, from the way she explained it, it’s a miracle that i even exist. maybe everyone feels that way about their child. but my mom made it sound like i’m seriously special. and her whole point was that god must have some really important purpose for my life since i made it here through all that.  like i said, i don’t believe in god or whatever. but i’ve increasingly felt like my purpose here is to do good for people. to make them smile, to make them feel better, even if they’d never do the same for me. i’m a fucking pisces, and it’s what pumps the blood through my veins. i’ve said before that i wish i could feel the whole world’s pain so they wouldn’t have to. i don’t feel good when i receive gifts, only when a gift i’ve given someone makes them smile. i hope that when i die, it’s because i’m saving children from a burning building or something, but that no one sees me as a hero. i’ve felt really guilty lately because i’ve been feeling so horrible internally that i can barely go through the motions of everyday life, much less reach outside of myself to do something unrequired. i wanted more than anything to be at the protests in support of the immigrants, but i couldn’t pull myself out of bed. this is something much more important than me, much more widespread than the part of the world i’m capable of touching, and i should’ve been there, protecting the lives of those who don’t have the luxury to lie down for hours and complain of anxiety. but i was too selfish, too full of self-pity. all i could think of was my own foolish needs and desires. and that took me down another road - if i can’t do good for anyone else, and am only taking up space here, why should i keep going?  this one right now, it’s a tough one. leaving someone? someone who loves you and who you supported financially? how can that possibly be good? but i think i understand. being there made me feel bad a lot. giving to greg didn’t make him smile or feel good, only made him ask for more, for what i had already given away the last of. the empty jar feels pain at the touch of the hand that reaches in, asks for more. it wants desperately to give but has nothing left, so it crumbles, turns to nothing. i’d turned to nothing, been sucked dry so that i had little left to give to those who really needed it, and few ways to reenergize myself to keep giving. that’s what’s been wrong the whole time. i have to be a whole person in order to give, in order to make small improvements to the corner of the world that i touch, in order to have a part in whatever it is that saves the whole entire world. perhaps this was all an important step in getting me to the place where i’m supposed to be, perhaps it was an unfortunate diversion that kept me from the next milestone, but at any rate, i know that this has reached its end. it’s time for the next part.  so i must be selfless and i must not worry about my own desires, but i must be able to keep going. i live on others’ joy the way plants photosynthesize sunlight. sometimes an honest smile after i compliment someone can keep me alive for days. sometimes it takes more. at my worst, i need recognition, someone to tell me that i’m doing right, that i deserve to keep living. and perhaps this is why it is okay for me to find someone to be with, why i may even deserve it, even though that will require me to take from them at times. maybe it is okay for me to take sometimes, as long as i give the most.  still, this movie’s overarching theme is not one of finding someone to be with. maybe the two end up together, maybe they don’t. but if they do, it’s only a minor plotline. the scene where all is repaired and the credits roll, it’s not that one. if this is something that will help me to achieve my greater purpose, it will work out; and if it isn’t, it will fade into the background.  i said that i had always felt like i could write something, until i took a creative writing class and was criticized horribly. he said i should keep on. how unusual, having someone i’ve just met shoot down every criticism i repeat, the mantras that have followed me for years. so i’ll write. after all, i have to do something. kindness is not a career, advertising is not kind, a coffee shop can’t support me forever, not with my heart for giving my money away. and i think that maybe i can write. maybe it won’t lead anywhere at all, but maybe, just maybe, it will touch someone’s heart, maybe in a way that i can’t ever anticipate or know about, and then, the world will allow my existence to go on. maybe. maybe this will help me with another kind of writing, with music writing. maybe i can enjoy myself while i’m giving. maybe someone who has a knack for refuting my flaws should be around. maybe there’s a real opportunity for me to give there, in those sad eyes. maybe it will make its way back around. but i think that will only be the case if it helps along the main storyline. and right now, that feels okay. and i am going to be okay.