21 Oct 2017

 once again... anxiety wants to get in, and have me play with toadstools and cobwebs. as a harsh critic (virgo, if you want to go there), i say, "missing car, missing girlfriend, missing money, abscence of friends, bills piling up..." and on, and on, and on...

trying to measure myself against some imagined yardstick of society, spoon-fed to me by mass media?

so. poitive spins, instead?

i'm tutoring math again, at ACC, for 19 hours per week, and working as a cashier at Randall's (for whatever hours they'll trickle down to me)... two job areas I've always enjoyed, partly for the light social contact. (yes, I could pursue a career in teaching [and I want to put a but here...])

["Hi, Anxiety!" ...worries about attendance issues, at both jobs, with a look back at so many jobs lost due to the same...]

I quite enjoy the time off, spent playing board games and RPG's. It's relatively inexpensive, money-wise; but... time... once again, appeals to my math puzzle brain.

I've been volunteering at film fests - quick way of seeing some independent films. but... time...

trying to re=center on positive spin... keep getting pulled to, "can this be better?"

is it avarice or greed or what? That gnawing, devouring yearning for more? That desire to stay busy, busy, busy; without worrying about expense?

I think it can be abated, once one gets creating. Not just dystopian memes or poems, but real, honest beauty, shaped by one's one hands and mind. I wonder if the comic panels still sit at New Guild, or the journals at French House. I wonder if my "house bible" is still about...

alas, when the markers are set down, the desires creep back in...

perhaps... meditation? To look upon the world, with unclouded eyes... to see that nothing is attempting harm (well... Trump...)

Every time that I think I'm safe and secure (because I feel alive with only low-level pains), I get surprised at how delicate the balance really is: pennies in the bank account, leg pain upon awakening, nobody calling...

I think we're all scratching at the edges of our personal pits, sinking ever deeper into the abyss.

Perhaps I could help some one. Perhaps it could be as crazy as talking to a stranger at a bus stop. Or maybe I help by tutoring, by volunteering, by creating.

I don't know. I want to believe that pain shared is pain lessened (and joy shared is abundance increased?) but... there's that word again.