What Happens Next: A Gallimaufry

melancholic romantic comic cynic. bi & genderqueer. fantasy writer. sysrae on ao3.

Some days, I honestly can’t decide if my brain is inherently super fucked-up, or if I’m just really bad at understanding my own feelings. Example: I’m lying in bed reading, and at no obvious provocation I completely dissociate from the text, even though I’m technically still absorbing it, and think of myself, “You are monstrous. You know that, right? You unfailingly drive daggers into people. You don’t know when to stop or shut up, you have this perverse need to both provoke and be praised, it is an actual tiny miracle that anyone else can stand you, and even knowing what an infliction you are to others, you’re too fucking selfish to stop talking at them and just die.” The whole thought very calm, unemotional, delivered in exactly that voice. And then I think, with a sort of metaphorical nod, “Yes. That’s true. I’ve accepted it.” And when I type it out like that, it looks really disturbing??? But in my head I’m just *shrug*???

  1. sable-twilight reblogged this from fozmeadows
  2. hannibalancebeam said: thank you for typing it out. my brain has its own variations on this theme and seeing it written down helps me face how ridiculous it is to let these sorts of thoughts have as much influence on my decision-making as i often give them.
  3. recollection-collection said: Nah, I think you’re just mature enough to shrug acceptingly at your own humanity. ._. DON’T TAKE IT TOO SERIOUSLY. And don’t guilt trip yourself.
  4. flawful-ish said: that happens to me too…
  5. fozmeadows posted this