eoporto said: out of curioisity, why can’t you start again?
cattyfantastic said: is that cause of arm pain or because you aren’t feeling inspired? now that you aren’t at computer all day, have you tried it?
It’s the inspiration that’s missing. I have ideas but the designs don’t come together. There’s also some Feelings involved. It’s kind of like wanting to go home when the house you grew up in doesn’t exist anymore.
Who knows what will happen in the future, though. Goodness knows I’ve been surprised, mostly pleasantly, by the developments in my life over the last few years. :)
I will do 5 surprise tarot card readings against humanity every monday until I forget, or get bored and decide to do it sooner. DON’T WORRY. YOU’LL GET YOUR CHANCE AT THE MYSTICAL FORCES THAT ARE RUNNING THROUGH MY BOOOOOOOOODY.
“I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to (for) me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (“I’m not a big one for paying compliments…”), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain.”—Jonathan Carroll (via novemberkind)
This is a true story. It’s my favorite part of living.
A depressive episode. I’ve been sleeping excessively, having nightmares, avoiding contact with friends, and I’m exhausted more often than not. I have this shitty voice in my head telling me that everything I do is terrible, and that I’ll probably scar my step-kids emotionally just by being me.
It doesn’t feel awful or desperate, though. I know this thing, I’ve been through it before, and I’m not ashamed or scared of it. I’ve got love and support and I’m where I want to be. I’m not scared to talk about how I’m feeling, and that’s what makes all the difference. It’s still a bummer, and it still makes parts of my life a struggle, but fuck it, who cares? I’m here, and I’m grateful.