I joined a freebie Coursea class on ‘how to write a novel.’
It started today.

When I did, I thought that I’d be enthuasic about it.
But, with my current mood, I’m really falling flat.

I can’t even keep up a blog, let alone write a novel.
That’s unlike me. But, it’s just in the past couple of days, I’ve startted to feel really crappy.

I guess, in more artistic terms, something hard has taken residence in my chest.
I don’t think it’s smothering but projecting a more realistic and factual reality.

In this reality, writing stories is foolish. If I was going to crank out a book, I would have done it by now.
Since I haven’t I probably won’t. Yeah, that feels mean, but truthful.

But, that’s not where the heaviness is coming from. That’s a symptom.

I’m thinking that another symtom is the shock and suprise of the people around me concerning Biden’s actions.

– Hey! It was discovered he’s shipping illegals to predominantly Republican areas in an attempt to turn them blue.

Duh. I assumed as much from the get-go and don’t feel validation for being right.

– Hey! Biden said that the shipping ports are going to work 24/7 to help solve our shortage issue that doesn’t really exist, according to them. But, the ports aren’t working 24/7. Biden lied.

Duh. The ports never had to do this before. Why now? Especially since they’re probably lacking workers (let alone truck drivers to move the stuff away from the port.

I don’t want to think about the Covid vaccine b.s.
Honestly, I don’t. I felt that this whole Covid thing would have been done with months ago. At one point, I was ready to declare victory and it’s still here.

I think the heaviness is coming from the realization that a lot of goals and theories I have on who I am are just bull sh. I’m just a lump of flesh here to consume products and help other people become massively rich. I’m just here to be an ear sponge for others who don’t see anything positive in the world.

Lump of flesh full of inaction who, untilmately, holds no meaning and has no value besides what others believe or think.

It’s very disheartening.

Even the purring cat sitting on my stomache isn’t bringing relief. He wants treats. I know it. He knows it. That’s why he is litterally getting into my face.

I also think that part of this heaviness is from personal inaction.
And, of course, money is involved. I talked myself out of buying some lotion from Bath and Body Works. There were some clothes on sale in Macy’s. Shirts for five dollars. I effectively talked myself out of those even though I tried them on. The extravagance of Jason’s mom coupled with her cries of being ‘broke’ gets under my skin more than I like for it too.

It doesn’t have to be money but that’s a system of personal limitations.
Like not writing a book.

In theory, I should be strong.
I did, actually, enroll in the Coursea class. It is starting to become a little cooler here. Classes are ending within a week.
I should be thrilled – especially since this has been a rough term.

But, no.
I’d rather sit here and complain instead of planning on going to the gym later.

Nope. More fun to just sit and beach.

I’ll pull myself out of it.
I always do, but it gets harder every time and, still, nothing changes.

I could change myself – ha ha.
Yeah, no. That’s not quite how it works.

I’m root bound.

“Which is all in my head” ha ha.
Really? Oh, really?

Like you’re one to talk.
You’re probably just as much as a life failure as I am.

It’s fun having arguments with myself.