It's been well over a year since I was over here. Too many platforms, too little time.
Not much has changed, beyond accepting my anxiety and getting myself a brain mechanic for it. Social outings have gotten curiously difficult.
I tell myself I should journal more, but most everything I want to talk about dries up in my throat. The crushing anxiety of a directionless middle age. The depressing fear of our collective future. The innate desire to do something, anything, that will go on after I'm gone - a time with feels increasingly shorter and shorter. But why? Many others have already given these thoughts words.
With the death of G+ (where I mostly lurked, but was quietly watching) I might make the effort.
Anyway - Hey. It's nice to see you.
Not much has changed, beyond accepting my anxiety and getting myself a brain mechanic for it. Social outings have gotten curiously difficult.
I tell myself I should journal more, but most everything I want to talk about dries up in my throat. The crushing anxiety of a directionless middle age. The depressing fear of our collective future. The innate desire to do something, anything, that will go on after I'm gone - a time with feels increasingly shorter and shorter. But why? Many others have already given these thoughts words.
With the death of G+ (where I mostly lurked, but was quietly watching) I might make the effort.
Anyway - Hey. It's nice to see you.