Value is subjective.
I want to answer this prompt. I can’t write anything else right now. I need to eat and it’s nearly bedtime. I’m also feeling rather … bored, empty, uninspired, upset … half-longing for dissociation and half-longing for death. Thus last week, once again, I don’t want to cook, clean, watch tv, netflix, hulu, roku. I dont want to water the garden. I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I don’t want to be around other people.
I hate people.
Value — others, others’ words, other bloggers who are are full-of-shit liars … the value we place on “celebrities” and why … what makes a person “of value” in the eyes of others … wealth, “success” (also subjective), “friendly” “bubbly” “warm” … religious. … “pretty” etc etc etc.
Value.
I’ve been trying to make myself have value to myself … in other words, to find value in myself. Sometimes it can be really fucking hard – especially when feel like this. I’ve written a few poems, maybe even one actual song (lyrics) the last two weeks. These things have at least some value to/for me. And they pass the time. They pass the time between sleep, insomnia, eating, feeling bored, useless, empty, upset, angry, uninspired and trying to avoid triggers.
Avoiding triggers. That in itself can take up at least half a day.
Value.
I value what little sleep I get each night and often wish (hope?) I never wake up.
I value the sleep I get when my bladder is calm enough to let me; my cold feet are warm enough to let me; I’m not boiling in my own bed from roasting summer heat; my mind isn’t racing away with no brakes. … even when I’m in a starring role or just following along in nightmares and unpleasant dreams like a tourist, sightseeing. I value sleep when it’s time to get up.
I’m not sure exactly why , but that seems to happen every day. 😦
Ok, so I guess I had something to say after all. lol.
My “convenience meal” is in the microwave, half cooked. I fluctuate between not caring at all if I eat to being hungry and actually wanting to – but only cuz my stomach wants to. The rest of me? Not so much.
The end. For now.
hopeforthemisanthropetrope 