Writing

A Thursday morning full of thoughts. 

Made myself a big cup of coffee. It was struggle getting out of bed this morning. It’s always the same struggle. I just want to rub up against something warm and hard before beginning my day. I should have sent that text last night but I thought too much about it. There was a process I had to go through. In therapy we call it chain analysis and before I grabbed the phone, I grabbed my therapist. I have problems and I am beginning to think that maybe this is just who I am and it’s not about fear. Maybe my spirit needs to be free and this is suffocating. All last night the war between body and mind was constant. I’m tired of revisiting the notion that sometimes love just ain’t enough. It just ain’t. I’m tired of running back to the same thoughts of contemplation. What are we really doing at this point? How is the sea so smooth for you but constantly tossing me around? I don’t understand. It’s 9:30am and I’ve done one discharge. The coffee ain’t kicking in fast enough. I’m wasting time. Take that however it fits. I just hope I know next time things come around. The body never lies, I think that’s what is trying to be taught.

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