There’s a reason I like to write at night; when my belly is full and I have time to actually listen to my thoughts. The rest of the day is usually filled with running to and from work, walking Palmer, emails, meetings, and a poor and sad attempt at a social life. So here I am, eating a tub of dark chocolate, coconut ice cream and trying to weave my scattered thoughts into cohesive sentences for you all to read. Hoping that by writing them down, I too, may actually make sense of them.
Much like my look, I feel slightly disheveled, in a way that almost looks intentional. Nevertheless, my outfits, as of late, resemble my scattered mood. Half-tucked shirts, ripped and worn jeans, a misplaced strand of hair. Details; nuances that aren’t enough to throw me over the edge but significant enough to notice. Like I may unravel at any moment….
I’m easily distracted these days, with no concrete direction. Perhaps I have too many goals, or perhaps I’m filling my time to avoid the real issues. What real issues? If I knew, I would tell you. I may have found a distraction I very well may like. But that too, is complicated. Much like the thoughts I’m having. My therapist would say, “this is great progress, Yana” but I don’t feel like I’m making any progress. Spinning in circles, on the other hand. That seems to be more my pace. Spinning and spinning with nothing to propel me forward. So, instead, here I am writing about everything in my mind and yet nothing at all, when really I should be doing laundry or hiding away in a hot bath, as I so often do.
Photos by Jennifer Coffey Photography
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