I am not having a very easy day today so far.
I am trying to keep things into perspective, but honestly I'm not always the best waker-upper; and this morning has been trying...very trying...

I'm not feeling very well lately. There's a lot going on in my personal world and I don't have anyone to hash out the details with. It just is as it comes and every moment is unexpected.

Can I really complain?
Isn't this a world of my hard work and creation?

I never feel good enough.
or maybe I do, maybe today is just a rough morning

maybe there is lingering sad or annoyed that hasn't shaken off
There's a lot of things to complain about
but that will just strengthen the neural pathway to the road of complaints
how can you lecture your awful preteen on such things
about having an attitude of gratitude
when you do nothing but the same as she

I'm sick of listening to everyone else's complaints. I'm sick of problem solving everything. I am trapped in my current life situation, however joyful or hellish it may feel in the moments which are. I'm sick of feeling frustrated with unfinished tasks and missing pieces and not-enough always around me. I'm sick of watching my hard works and efforts go to waste or whittle away.

No one is ever at pace to help me. No one is ever there to lead me on the right path in a secure way. No one is ever there when I falter. It is and always has been, if they even bother to notice at all, too little, too late.
What good does that do for me anyhow if then I just have to do it on my own fueled by my own spiritual influences I've drawn upon.

Why will the invisible world around me always be better to and for me than any person?

As if I am not worthy, I have never been worthy, that this is some extreme showing that I am not supposed to rely on the world of man. I get it. It doesn't make it easier.

I can't shake this deep feeling of mortality; that something will brush up against me. I don't feel prepared.

There is so much I would want to spill out into this blog. So much to divulge. But what good is it to me or to anyone to write out my woes to the world? This is the only perception that will be available of me longstanding. I do not photograph and am quite sparingly in public or out and about. My children are those who know best of me and they cannot have a full understanding of the deep complex webs I weave.

I just don't feel good