Tag Archives: anxiety

Ruminations #6

Is it okay to spend hours looking over old notes, marveling over the fact you managed to come through the event in one piece while being awestruck at how stupid you were to do it to begin with? My notes … Continue reading

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Eight Fingers, Three Paths, and One More Year

I have some ideas… Continue reading

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Argument with Self: 12/23/1016

“Do you really need to have the walls melt here?” “It looks cool.” “Sure, but does it add anything besides that?” “It’s been there for over a year and a half now, taking it out seems wrong.” “That’s mythos. Next.” … Continue reading

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Ruminations #3

As if suddenly cutting from the Gordian knot of my own existence. I find myself panicked like a child before some great event. Liberated my mind flies, throwing out ideas with the easy words of “Fuck it, who will read … Continue reading

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Ruminations #2

It’s amazing looking over the notebooks for the last 400+ days and realizing that you’ve been running in circles for over year, hoping to find some unrefined truth hidden in the scorched and mulched ruins of what you were once … Continue reading

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Secret

I’m part of a secret society. We live in darkness, breathing in shadows and spitting out light. We conjure horrors and wake up the next morning utterly lost and looking at our wake with the disinterested grimace of an unappeasable … Continue reading

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A World Without Logos

The older he got the more he realized that sobriety was a condition he was growing increasingly allergic to. He would have attacks. Pangs of panic as his face flushed red with an anxiety that was a distant as the … Continue reading

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The Novel That Refuses to be Written

I sat down this afternoon with a goal: write. It’s the same goal I’ve always had for every shred of spare time, but lately my spare time as been relegated to extensive bouts of napping and general lamentations of the … Continue reading

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Somewhere Along the Way the Muse Died

During college I had a pretty specific ritual. It wasn’t unique, nor particularly interesting, but as is most important with rituals it accomplished something. During the required months I would throw myself into my school work, engage with its ideas, chew … Continue reading

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Post Processing

There are certain parts of grief that seem to change with every passing moment. Little broken things that shift in the soul like shattered glass and at their worst break something else amid their rattling. I figure the pieces can … Continue reading

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