The odd thing is, one does not truly appreciate how anxious one was before it peaks. It literally orgasms. Tears are shed. Pacing ensues. One wonders if one will die. Momentarily. Ya laugh. ha ha, only to cry again. ah ah. Physically moving breaks the attack.
What if the attack began a few weeks earlier. What if it built in strength herding ideas, vehimiently gathering stimuli. What if it lasts an average two weeks out of every month. What if one doesn’t care that it lasts two weeks. The upside of anger is this exactly.
There exists an upside to anxiety also. I just don’t realize it until after the orgasm. My mind literally explodes. BOOM. Flashes of thought connect together, the dots join disconnected no longer. I like to be home when then happens. It is a spiritual connection to oneself. One gathers and one does. When one gathers more than the other one can do there is a crescendo of unconcious, come into focus and it hurts but feels good at the same time. I didn’t beat my head against the wall or anything like that. I typed nonsence that later made sense. I picked up my recorder and set it up. I filled two boxes of clothing, digital, and gobbl-e-gooky stuff that no longer needs a presence with me. My recorder I plugged in. And FUCK it actually does web-cam mode. I thought to be only for a PC, that it would work. Low and behold this sucker fucking works for a Mac. I’ve got something to record with. Something to write and draw with. Something furry that keeps me company. Now all I need is drive. I need fuel to get it all out.
My studio. Ahhhh my studio dammit. I always wanted to live in a top floor space where I could manage it as a shared art space. Three years of accumulating and re-arranging and arguing and pouting, gleefully witnessing the transformation of my living space.
It is more than three years though. 32.9 monthes to be precise. gee-ziz kryst.
Human beings experience epiphanies. It is PLEBEIAN.
There are stories… yes there are stories