Amid raving tweets and (restless sleep? twisted sheets? What doesn't rhyme with "eet?")...erm, an inability to fall asleep, my thoughts last night concluded in nothing. Seriously. I thought and thought and thought and tried to funnel whatever it was I was thinking into a singlular stream of conciousness, or even a few rivulets, but I ended up falling to sleep and dreaming my thoughts all over again, but of course with the darkly humorous tilt all dreams seem to have. I had sausage stolen and took the "M-SAT" (I took a picture of a cayote howling at the moon and "got an A?" What are the criteria for the "M-SAT," dreamworld?), neither of which helped answer my questions, which in turn weren't fully formed before I fell asleep.
Thoughts about hedonism, ultimate happiness, and faith--serious questions from the perspective of a new "adult." And not entirely unrelated. Since Paris, a period of my life still lingering heavily on a day to day basis, I have tried my best to adopt more hedonistic principles, which is fairly--no, very--easy, but allowing others to fit within the same standards is difficult. Honestly, just thinking is difficult. A life spent without deep thought is really a much happier life.
And that's what it's all about. Happiness. You can work, and play, and date, and love, and travel and do whatever but unless it makes you happy there is no reason behind it. Groundbreaking stuff, I know. But it's so much harder to implement into daily life than it seems. Sometimes I just want to normalize. I want to sit in my chair/on my bed/in my yard and take a deep breath, the kind of deep breath the sickly take in Advil commercials that says, "I am free of all pain and just so satisfied with my life/husband/white wraparound porch/the boat I'm painting in the garage here on the coast of Maine." Sometimes, though, you wake up feeling shitty, you can't find a single thing to wear, you forget to grab any food, you take two wrong turns on the way to work, and then you wait idly for hours because it's a "slow day." Give me a fucking slow day when I am stressed out, not when my mind is so clogged nothing relieves the itching of my thoughts pounding their little fists against my skull but disctraction. Warm, numbing distraction.
So what to do? My first thoughts: "I need a day off." "I need more money." "I need a partner." "I need to get drunk."
NOT HELPFUL, DUSTIN. THX.
I hate these kinds of blog posts. Useless and indulgent. I wouldn't post it, but I feel like my "loyal followers" would "want" to read a "new update" because they "care about [me], man."