It takes an ocean not to break...

For as stable as I'm beginning to feel. With the pieces all lining up the apartment, job, school, the support system the picture is still unclear. I'm not seeing what is supposed to actually "be" and I am not satisfied with what "is." Because I know that I can take on more and I know I can do better.

I keep tipping on the edge of crumbling up my annotated bibliographies, my thesis, and just starting from scratch. I keep thinking I should just move out of my apartment and run off somewhere where I don't know anyone. I keep thinking I should just work as many jobs as I can handle. Midterm anxiety. Normally I can channel it into some weird escapist writing...but I can't seem to write. Except these random blogs that seem to just be replacing the short stories. I write to make sense but I can't make sense of this. All of the things are pointing in my favor but I am afraid I am just going to mess it all up.

I don't want to touch anything that I can break. But I am doing a bunch of shit right now that I am liable to fail at. So what is the keystone keeping this all together? I can't remember why I wanted to do all of this. All I can remember is that I wanted to. But I want to do a lot of things. And I know I can do it all and every time I go to take a chance I work so hard to talk myself down. Talk myself into not trying, because I don't want to let myself down/be let down. I should just accept the inevitable failure instead of being scared of it.

Who cares?

The only person standing by waiting for me to fuck up/get hurt/fail/give up...is me.
And I don't have to do it.

And I can't fall asleep without a little help

It takes a while to settle down

My shivered bones

Wait til the panic's out