3-16-15

I'm going back to one of my old homes in about 1 month. It's the place I've spent the most time consecutively since the town I grew up in, so it's where my friends are, and it feels like home. My spirit withers when faced with too much routine, and too much routine is exactly what life has been.

I'm tired of not having my own space, and I'm tired of not having free time or friends around. I am not complaining, because now I can appreciate these wonderful things even more when I have them, but it's a solid undeniable fact that I am ready to move on from here.

I kind of feel like a potless plant right now, out of place, and on the cusp of something I am both nervous for and beyond ready to experience. I know that things take time, you cannot rip the skin off the snake, and all is working out in the exact amount of time it's supposed to.
I know these things when I take the time to stop and consider everything. All of this hard work is going to pay off, all of this time alone was much needed, all of this sobriety was much needed, the time away from (certain) temptation, the utter frustration of myriad forms, the learning to trust in the unknown, the slowwwwwness with which it's all happened that has taught me things I needed to know about patience. It was all necessary, and I resolved a lot of repressed issues.

I read something today that said that when we're feeling un-ease or anxiety or whatever, a lot of the time we automatically think something is bad or that it's a signal that we're doing things wrong, but really this is just a human thing; a normal part of existence. It's easy to forget that.

A friend of mine recently asked me if I've ever been in a state of being "there, yet not there" from doing a lot of drugs and it made me remember that I have been in that place, I was there for months/years and it fucking sucked, and now I am feeling a million different things any given day. This is worlds better than feeling nothing even if it's a crazy ride sometimes and I almost never know wtf is happening.
I can't deny, even when the monotony or anxiety feels like it's going to drive me insane any minute, that I feel alive.

Je vas aller a France en deux mois. Mon esprit ne fait pas croire encore....
Je suis un peu nerveux sur la langue et mon mauvais parler,
mais, j'espere ce sera bien.
Tout temps je ecrire, je sens mieux. Je dois rappeler ca!