sometimes i get paralyzed by that question of what’s the point, and the answer of "the point is the point" even starts to feel lackluster. it’s not good enough. i want MORE. i want there to be MORE of a point!!!! the point can’t just be the point. i want more. there needs to be more. i demand more. i need more and i demand more and i can’t accept less. i can’t accept less. it’s too little. i can’t accept it.

sitting in a cafe. i’ve been here for who knows how long.

what am i supposed to do now? is there anything to do? anything at all? anything, really, anything at all? hello? is there anything to do? anything to be done?

the point is the point, and that’s more than enough, and to ask for anything more... isn’t that a sort of hubris, a sort of disrespect?

there’s barriers to entry everywhere you look. where to go, what to do? what can i do with msyself and my abilities right now? at a certain point, the point starts to feel like it’s not enough, and pitifully so... pitifully just so very completely not enough. but what’s a girl to do about that, anyway? what is a girl to do when something doesn’t feel enough? where do you go, what do you do, what becomes the point? is there a point in any of it, at all? anything at all, anything to be done, anything to be made of it all? anything but grasping at straws? anything, seriously, anything? i’m not sure.

it feels so very hollow, and that’s just how it is at the moment. but it’s... fine.... it’s fine, you know... it’s fine. i don't mind it.... it’s all okay. i'm fine, we’re all fine.....

the thing is on days like this—and there have been a lot of days like this—that it becomes a question of what the hell is there to do? i see my future laid out so clearly. i’m going to somehow end up back at my house by the time the day ends, and that’s just the fact of the matter. that’s just a fact.

and i know that.... life... is, uhhh... you know, it’s fine,,,, the light coming in through the windows, and the.... the mist on the windows... not mist, but dust or something.... dust? right....

right, right.

consciousness is so slippery that you don’t have to worry about what it’s going to do in the future. that was enough to feel relieved. thank god for that remembrance.

you’re spending your life and times worrying about how there’s nothing to do, nothing to be done, but then.... there’s always an answer that is not what you thought.

no what am i even doing here? all these things, is there a point to any of it? these days, there is just a closed loop.

no, dude, you’re in a trap!!!!! you’re under spells!!!! you’re under spells.... the present moment is still all you’ve got. it’s good, it’s a good thing, it’s all very well and good, it’s all fine and well and good and proper and right and just, and everything doesn’t need to become something else. it can be just the moment, and it is just the moment, isn’t that true?

like the athlete who is big and unwieldy walking out the door of this cafe and going the wrong direction and turning around and walking the other way and now he’s gone.

and this dude sitting in front of me who, by his head and face, you’d think him a stocky and well-built individual, but when you look at his arms you see skinny, frail things, and he’s different in one place than he is in another.

it’s all part of what it feels like to be alive. sometimes i think it could be fine and good and right and just to simply remind oneself of what it’s like to be alive. i think it's a fine, fine, and dandy thing to do, fine indeed, fine, very, very fine.... it’s all just fine, wouldn’t you say? i think it is.... i think it really is....