^ (n a v i g a t e) ^
� there is more than one thing broken on this body of rickets �
11:55 a.m., 2002-10-30
beating myself up sometimes brings joy for some twisted reason. somehow it reminds me how to feel other than doleful about unchanging breaches in emotional security from lifetimes ago. it makes me feel healthy to be lamenting about things i actually can mold and change and inspect as a dynamic and real situation. otherwise, i have nothing to feel but retreaded fingerprints and dusted pictures and dusty mindsets. it provides a current and ongoing goal to work towards with the hope that by bettering myself i can move on to arrange things that will somehow remedy the things that made me become this unsatisfactory mess i yearn so desperately to change. it's hard to force the steps when the attainment appears so readily jumpable. it's the steps that count and the blind leaps that leave you short and bereft of progress.________________________
(note to self: no longer is the deck of a halfpipe a viable and safe place for which to attempt any number of tricks where the board flips and spins underneath you. while you may feel ok about it at the time, and you might land everything you try, you could end up coming home to a searing pain in your foot/ankle that sends you to the verge of shock and makes you wake up in the night in a cold sweat. got that?)
