I DIDN’T QUIT

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I want to quit. Every now & then I come up against a wall & think I could walk away, I could quit, it would be so much eas­ier to sit back & blend in. I could quit so easily.

Symp­toms include watch­ing a lot of real­ity tv (which is absorb­ing, I real­ize because it takes me away from the pains of quit­ting or stay­ing). I call it lazi­ness which is really just sell­ing myself short, it’s more like the prover­bial deer in he headlights.

Symp­toms include not lifestream­ing, inten­tion­ally block­ing my flow, inten­tion­ally lim­it­ing myself.

Symp­toms include not writ­ing or cre­at­ing or writ­ing but not pub­lish­ing– the gen­eral form stuck­ness takes.

It’s eas­ier than we think to come undone– but I’m more often more sur­prised by how easy it is to restart & get regenerate.

Once you start you can’t ever go back. For a while the seda­tives work. You tell your­self you can just quit, you can live a socially pre­scribed life & feel nor­mal & repress all that pas­sion & desire you really are, & you tell your­self it was just a sac­ri­fice & it will all be ok.
We think it will be eas­ier. How could it not be, its been done to death already.

But there’s that nag­ging feel­ing, those moments of self hatred that come with self denial. When the self is denied, dis­ease firms, anx­i­ety, sick­ness. It’s a lot eas­ier to just get over it & unstick our­selves than it is to spend the dura­tion of our lives aban­doned & regret­ful.
It’s a really fuck­ing sim­ple deci­sion actu­ally. But here we are, hav­ing to make it over & over & over again. Do or do not.

I’m good enough to live my life, my pos­si­bly (prob­a­bly?) ONE TRUE LIFE AS THIS EGO, exactly how I want, & you are too.

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