today i made a weed garden. cat mint and pansies. i was repotting plants with my mom and i fell in love with a little mint plant, i couldnt rip it out and leave it to wither. so after i had potted three new plants for my mom, i planted my own garden in a little pot. i was very proud of it. it was the first time i had felt an emotional feeling the whole time i was outside with my mom. i went through the actions in a mechanical manner. my mom noted "i can tell you're not enjoying a bit of this" i managed to reply. the first sound i had made the whole time "ya..i am." and it was true. although enjoyment was something of an emotion, and i was curiously void of feelings. it felt odd, my mind was clear. not to say i wasnt thinking, but i was thinking in an oddly perfunctory fashion. but as i sat, shovelling dirt from one pot to another, i found myself feeling in a different way. i found myself grabbing handfuls of dirt and feeling it slip through my fingers. i found myself crumpelling composted leaves into dust, marvelling at the way it felt on my skin. i grabbed handfuls of damp soil, squeezing it, feeling it squelch between my fingers. i was confused. and with the absense of thoughts it was hard to figure it out.
I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough ...
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