I have a nearly infinite number of posts over seventeen years with the word “life” in their titles.
Seems to be something I think about a lot.
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I just finished binge watching the entire series The United States of Tara on Netflix, after my wife suggested the show.
I mean, binge watching. Three full seasons in one day. Walking around the house doing stuff with the show playing on my phone. Not stopping for breath.
It was either a theraputic thing to do or an unhealthy thing to do. These days I think the world may actually be nuanced enough that something can be both. It’s possible that I’m starting to believe that everything in life is both.
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I’m not talking to anybody. Since sometime in early March, I have cut nearly everyone off without meaning to. I’m not sure why. It’s not that I’m running from people or from things. It’s more that I feel like I need to be able to be in the room with myself and just myself again, keep myself company, and get to know myself.
I want to slow things down somehow.
Between arriving in New York in 2006 and the present, everything has been chaos. Everything has happened at the speed of light. Changes and decisions and constant striving have surrounded us like a tornado, with us at the eye of the storm.
Slowing reality to a crawl seems like the only way to get sanity back.
— § —
I need to go to bed.