I'll say this in praise of my anxiety - it'll try everything once.
It's always got one eye out looking for comfort.
Before the lockdown we would take walks, my anxiety and I. Now it's all downward dog this, chaturanga that. Breathe breathe breathe that newly purified air you muthaloving human, my anxiety chants.
Enough blood to the skull resolves the tightness.
We allow ourselves to become cliches.
We won't read the books we said we would and we won't stay awake as late as we'd hoped.
Cook once, clean twice, binge watch. Then turn them into monuments of functionality.
Things my anxiety doesn't know.
What this post is about it until the first sentence is written.
That it will eat 3 lunches in one day or nap from 2 to 6pm.
Or that this task will be abandoned in 3...2...1.
Making money? We don't do that anymore.
Write more than 3 lines at a time? We don't do that anymore.
Plan? Laugh. Out. Loud.
It's annoying, this brain-fart prose.
My anxiety shortens things. Sentences, breath, ambition. This blog post.
Enjoy.
It's always got one eye out looking for comfort.
Before the lockdown we would take walks, my anxiety and I. Now it's all downward dog this, chaturanga that. Breathe breathe breathe that newly purified air you muthaloving human, my anxiety chants.
Enough blood to the skull resolves the tightness.
We allow ourselves to become cliches.
We won't read the books we said we would and we won't stay awake as late as we'd hoped.
Cook once, clean twice, binge watch. Then turn them into monuments of functionality.
Things my anxiety doesn't know.
What this post is about it until the first sentence is written.
That it will eat 3 lunches in one day or nap from 2 to 6pm.
Or that this task will be abandoned in 3...2...1.
Making money? We don't do that anymore.
Write more than 3 lines at a time? We don't do that anymore.
Plan? Laugh. Out. Loud.
It's annoying, this brain-fart prose.
My anxiety shortens things. Sentences, breath, ambition. This blog post.
Enjoy.
Nice to see you writing again
ReplyDeleteThanks yaar.
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