I've changed in many ways, assuaged by the moral plight. Words became more relevant. They were once coated with defiance. Advice, I guess, is hard to accept when you feel you're better off dead. I don't anymore, because angels have alleviated the pain. And by angels, I mean normal people heightening my spiritual senses. Sometimes I thought I knew best because my arguments were so keen and up your ass. Plus, I didn't want to lie to myself into foolishly thinking that breathing deeply or going to therapy could help.
I really want to get some weed today. I hope that all works out cuz I haven't smoked in about a month and I'd really like to just chill, listen to good music, maybe right some more about my abstructive thoughts, tangled up in despair and a hopeful calmness at the same time. It seems easy, self-acceptance. I do accept myself and even love myself to some shakespearean this-is-a-play-and-we-are-merely-actors. SOO, I can act then, although realness appeals to me more. I am also convinced that reading more and eating fruits and vegetables will radically change how I feel and think. Sometimes self-acceptance sounds like a cheap sell-out, why should I accept myself at a weight I dont belong in? I dont have much to lose and I'm convinced I'll get there, it's just a matter of how and when.
I have a hard time raising my middle finger nowadays, and an even harder time accepting that things might be getting better without the fear of another fall, confusion, or general shitty-ness. I'm obsessive, not really compulsive but I'm trying to tap into that spirit of mine that I know is so damn good. And when I've taped into it, Only God appears before me and I could spend eternity, even with no words back and forth. Just there, in nothingness, breathing. The cup is only half empty when you're thirsty.