Another day that whispers...

....leave it all behind, start over, get away, throw away keys and kindness....

But I would never. It's madness, plain and simple, and I recognize that voice anywhere. It's saved in the databases of my brain, recorded, preserved, archival and accessible. It's evidence and comparison, witness and perpetrator.

Mostly: I'm tired of people again. Tired of this body. Tired of fighting this flesh. Tired of not knowing how I feel, and when I do know how I feel, I can't express it meaningfully. I feel like my times, they are a-changin', and I'm not sure why. I'm grateful for it and am ready and willing for change. I think it's time. Don't know how things will change, in what way, but it is time for things to change. Time for a new phase.

There are days, like today, when the world weights heavily. Not that the weight of the world is on my shoulders - it's not, and I don't feel that way: it's that everything seems so much denser and more complicated than usual. I feel like despair is close at hand, and depression creeps in. I haven't been able to conjure a manic fit, real or faux, for some time now. I need them, periodically, for balance, and for accomplishment. I hope one hides behind the horizon, and that it comes to me soon.

Birthday: twelve days away. Mom wanted to know if I wanted a party, like last year. I said no; just family, at the country house. Badminton, boardgames, and a bonfire. Homemade Mexican food. I want it to be a small, cozy, quiet affair. Older I get, the more quiet I want, I need.

I wonder, sometimes, if that need for quiet isn't my introversion asserting itself more aggressively and rebelliously, since my job demands extroversion, and because I've given my heart to my loved ones in the guise of the jester, the Self saying Be calm, they will love you anyway, even if you aren't talkative and laughing and ready for anything; they will love you even should you be high priestess instead of fool, temperance instead of empress. It's a strange feeling, trying to trust that one is worthy, to accept the truth that one's loved ones offer every time they open their arms and hearts: that one is worthy, that one is loved, regardless, that one's love is always echoed, reflected, returned.