Heck, Inktober starts in two weeks, and NaNoWriMo after that. And my spooky short story the day before that of course. I'll think of something.
Today didn't really go as planned, but it was a good one nonetheless. A great one. I didn't think about killing myself today, and that like never happens (it's a disruptive thought pattern; I can't control it, but today was good enough that nothing was there to trigger it in the first place.) And I look and feel, really good right now.
(Not planning on killing myself but it's alright if you're freaking out and want to talk with me about it or whatever- it's something we don't talk about enough as a society, something we naturally shy away from. I'm just bringing it up here, really casually. Because that's the way the thoughts are in my head, hey you know what's a good idea suicide! That devil, sure is a wacky one...)
As long as I'm thinking about the subject of my own mortality, if I do die randomly sometime soon, I don't really have regrets? I talk about it a lot, how there are all these art projects I want to get done but which I never work up the motivation to start; I've got plans for them written out at least, as much of them as I've got figured out so far, so I figure that somebody else can execute those concepts if I'm unable to complete them in my lifetime. My failure to (be able to) execute plans on my own, that's just some part of God's plan for me for some reason; I feel satisfied that, as far as it's formed so far, my music is outside of me.
Maybe I'm unmotivated to do the things I want to, because they already exist, at least in concept form? The mystery continues...
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