It’s now quite a well-moaned about fact here that my life is like rojak; damn messy everywhere. Anything and everything sprinkled here and there and all over the place. It’s such a mess that it amplifies my already low-tolerance for stress stress limits. I’m like frowning at 2 times my normal capacity here man.
But something somewhat paradoxial happened yesterday. As I prepared to sleep after getting stuff ready for the next day, a slow warmth of contentment spread across my heart. I’m not one to be happy without reason; whether that’s sad or practical it’s not the point but I was happy? After seeing my messy and ‘oh damn’ calendar?
To which I realised, I was subconsciously glad I had a full calendar. Subconsciously.
Which is fantastic. Here I am sometimes wanting to find medication for people who are born with stress and here I am secretly glad I have things to do. How more mad can I get?
Aye, whatever. I already have enough things to ponder everyday, much less why my brain loves twisting itself into brain fondue. Brian out.