published in 2014 on my tumblr
Sadly, the above photo is just wishful thinking. Nope, I do not have any kinky fantasies involving nuns, not even hotter looking ones than the granny there. I do have a really hot fantasy of myself not giving a flying fuck though. Figuratively speaking, of course, for there are also some fantasies about giving a flying fuck, literally speaking.
Major chapter in the Great Book of Obvious coming up: all the stupid mental torment that doesn’t let me sleep at night is pretty real, but also pretty made up – by me, my stupid brain (not really un-intelligent stupid, but rather the wouldn’t-it-be-swell-if-you-dwelled-on-this-scenario kind of stupid) and my cursed nature of caring too much.
For the life of me I can’t figure out this paradox. I don’t know how I can be so utterly selfish and yet care so much. And how I can care so much about myself and what I’m doing and how I’m feeling and at the same time love myself so little. Trying to make sense of this is giving me a headache. But I do care, sometimes ridiculously so. I cannot start doing something and not give at least 100% percent without feeling miserable for weeks to come. I am simply not built to be half-arsed about anything.
I feel guilty and upset and stressed out on account of work situations where I give my best and results are crappy because they depend on so many other things and people and circumstances. And still I am annoyed and frustrated that it didn’t turn out right, because I have had some involvement there and… meh, just go back to my fear of failing post.
And I really wish I could be more chill and accept that some things just happen and some things just are as they are and not take everything that is happening in the whole wide world so damn personal, because (incredible as it might sound) I am aware that the universe does not revolve around me. And I try. And for the half an hour I can actually consciously control myself, I manage not to give a fuck. And then I freak out.
