Numb. Apathetic. Bored. Reaaallllyy fucking bored.
Get. Me. Back. To. Spain. Pronto.
I feel like I’m living a really weird existence lately. Like this self imposed, self contained, bubble. Except, I’m not in the bubble. My body is, but my conscious is very much elsewhere. Like, as if I’m a Sim. I’m controlling me. But I’m also not me. This is very airy fairy, I’m aware that it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.
So, like… Shut the fuck up Flynn, this makes literally no sense to read. You’ve just read it back and it sounds nothing like it feels. It’s like I’ve put my life on autopilot, while I sit at the control centre, eating popcorn, watching me live my life, waiting to feel the need to take back control. Does that make sense? Fuck it if it doesn’t.
New day. Hello. Today is the first day since… – Christmas day? Christmas day. I’ve woken up before noon. My head feels fuzzy. The 7 to 10 days or so followed as above. Today I woke up needing to get out of the house, regardless of how I felt. I got ready in Spanish mode, without looking outside. I threw on a shirt, some black jeans and in my Zombie-like state I pulled open the front door which immediately slammed itself shut again as if to say “Do you know where you are!? Get your coat on!” Thanks Mother Nature, I forgot I was back in England.
I’ve been writing a lot lately. A lot in my various diaries/journals, the notes section of my iPhone, a lot of “poetry” – I still don’t know if I’m ok with calling it that – on napkins, anywhere and everywhere. But in the last few days I’ve hit a creative dry spell. I can’t come up with anythhingggggg new. Anything worthwhile. I guess I hit beginners luck, the universe showed me that I can do it. I was inspired. Now, not so much. Brainstorm, brainstorm, brainstorm. Get out there, experience something new. Make the menial mean something. Take trivial to the next level. You got this, Flynn. Believe.
Why am I writing in this new layout? I have absolutely no idea. I kinda like it though.
Track 3. Doorways + Trust issues
Anyone can say anything, I’d rather show you.
I feel very indecisive. Very indecisive. Which, really just isn’t me. I’m painfully decisive. Stubborn to my very core. It’s one of the best/worst things about me, depending on the day. If I don’t want to do something, you’re not going to change my mind – ever. Peer pressure really isn’t peer pressure, it’s a lack of conviction. At the moment, I can’t even decide on the most basic of things. What do you want to do? In any sense. Grand scheme, or just this afternoon. I don’t know. What do you want? For tea? In life? I DON’T KNOW.
Obviously, I don’t know why I feel like this. Obvious is obvious.
I’m struggling to write anything conducive to anything in this blog, you may have noticed that. But, if in some strange turn of events you’re still here… Hi. Congratulations? I’ve just been vaguely inspired by a memory from 2012. Only 3 days after starting this blog post…
Trust.
Who do you trust? Everyone? Nobody?
What do you trust?
I would say it takes a lot for me to trust people or situations/events in any sense. People confide in me a lot more than I confide in them. I’m open with new people, and honest for the most part. I’m open to trying to trust them. It’s not like I go into the situation expecting the worst, but I’m definitely not diving in headfirst. I’ve been told I’m good with people, please understand that this is completely unintentional. For some reason people seem to feel comfortable telling me intimate details about themselves. But I rarely tell them anything meaningful about myself. Verrryyyy rarely.
Group projects: I’m not trusting you with my grades. Plane to catch: I’m not trusting you with my punctuality. Errand to run: You guessed it, Nope. Anything that means something, that’s reserved for a select few.
“Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me” Wrong. Words. Words will fucking destroy me. Words will imbed themselves in my stomach lining, words will echo around my room in the depths of the night, my fingerprints leave behind the shards of broken promises.
I’ve learnt that I can’t trust people with their own words, so why in Gods name would I trust them with mine. I’d rather my words fall on deaf ears, than on minds that can’t comprehend their gravity. I’ve given my faith to people who absolutely did not deserve it. I learnt early on that words without actions aren’t to be valued, thanks mum. One of the worst things you can do in life is to say something and not back it up.
I’d say I’m a forgiving person. For the most part I can’t hold a grudge. I wish I could in some circumstances, but I know I can’t. I’m petty, but not spiteful. Hate or disrepute take too much energy, and frankly I can’t be fucked to give someone that. People do things for their own benefit, there’s nothing wrong with that. Be empathetic, put yourself in their shoes… You might just find yourself understanding. However, trust is very much a one way street. I will forgive you for the very worst of your actions, but I absolutely will not trust you with my words again. This isn’t best out of 3, you’re one and done. Maybe that’s harsh, maybe that’s unfair. Maybe you’re right. But then again, I’m painfully stubborn.
I can count the people I really trust on one hand and have digits leftover.
I can’t see that changing anytime soon.
Flynn x
Let's go on an adventure. 