I invariably lose myself inside my own head; it's like trying to navigate a maze blindfolded with spaghetti for a map.
Once, in a bookstore, out of nowhere, my brain hit me with the emotional equivalent of a piano falling from the sky. Suddenly, I was knee-deep in a pit of existential dread, wondering if my socks matched and if the universe had a delete button for embarrassing memories. With those thoughts, I walked out of that store with a book I didn't pay for. I realized this only when a friend asked me to show them the book I bought.
Sometimes, in all that mental gymnastics, I'll chance upon a nugget of wisdom. Like the realisation, it's okay to feel like a potato sometimes, so long as you remember that even potatoes have moments of glory. Golden fries. Delicious mash. Yum.
I even found an artist who has it all laid out, every damn thing I've ever felt but couldn't explain.Â
It's good to know you're not alone in your misery.