Usually, I do not have the motivation to place my thoughts on paper.
And on paper, surmounting the lack of motivation may sound like an easy obstacle to overcome, but it is a challenge. I have the interesting thought, the idea to write it crosses my mind, the idea to place it somewhere I can reference later springs for a fleeting moment, and then becomes suffocated by my anxiety, the questions that make that idea worthless, meaningless. 'What's the point?' or 'Who cares?' Questions my depression crafts to keep me in this fucking cycle I want to break.
Writing alone won't break the cycle, but now I don't care who listens.
So back to my thought...
How incredible is that humans evolved in such a way that they are able to use one avenue (the throat) for consuming both liquids and air? How long did it take nature to get that one right? And sometimes I personally struggle getting the sequence correct.
Wow, now that the thought is on paper those questions have arised, and I do ask what is the point? I'm not sure, but it feels good, it feels so good to have an idea and an eagerness and drive to put it into words.
I was sick yesterday with a fever - I left work midday and spent my afternoon in feverish sleep. I woke and felt a little better, but still unwell.
That feeling crossed over into today, my mind is sharp and quick, but my body is not able to keep the pace - I make many typos, say things without thinking.
But at work I am calm and centered taking each situation in stride and breaking the question into its constituent parts. Today is a good day.
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