oh, oh, heaven knows, we belong way down below

I'm Miss Autonomy, Miss Nowhere
I'm at the bottom of me
Miss Androgyny, Miss Don't Care
what I've done to me

I've been overthinking a lot this past week. (No, really? I would never have guessed that. Yes, yes, hush.) Partially because, it's been a while since I've been stuck in the spin cycle, and I'd forgotten how circular everything gets. But partially, also, because I keep trying to dissect the maelstrom, and then getting irked when thoughts get snatched out of my hand by the storm. I mean, that's sort of the point, but I'm so busy trying to reconstruct I'm not paying attention. Surprises me every damn time.



I am misused like I wanted to
be not your slave
misguided, high-minded
I'm missing the train

And...the core of what I keep trying to dig through is...is this reaction excessive? Is it just drama for drama's sake at this point? Normally, I'd just nod and move on, but...that's not it. Or...not entirely it.



and I don't know where I've been
and I don't know what I'm into
and I don't know what I've done to me

There is, or..at least seems to be...some genuine loss I'm mourning, here. It's not just the physical, though again--that is part of it, wrapped up in the same straps and belts as the rest. It's more...ephemeral. More...insubstantial. Far less tangible than I need it to be.



and as I watch you disappear into the ground
my one mistake was that I never let you down
so I'll waste my time and I'll burn my mind
I'm Miss Nothing, I’m Miss Everything

And standing here, on the edge of so many different cliffs, I'm trying to see everything clearly, and not get distracted by every other annoyance in my life. And that inchoate, trembling center I'm trying to narrow in on, I think it's wrapped around some very core concepts of self, and attitude, and inclination.



I'm Miss Fortune, Miss So Soon
I'm like a bottle of pain
Miss Matter, you had her
now she's going away

I overthink, yes, but the other side of that coin is I am very much a creature of impulse. And those impulses largely drive me--into relationships, into arguments, into breakups, into loss. I fear change, but I embrace risk. At least...up to a point.



I'm misused, Miss Construed
I don't need to be saved
Miss Slighted, high-minded
I’m stuck in the rain

So, sure, I can peer in from the outside and say, yes, this is a tad excessive. And I can tell myself all I want to just buck up, process things, and get back on the train. Because there are places to go, people to crash into. Right?

But...that's not it. I mean, yes, it is, but...that vibrating core tells me different. That's telling me to pay attention. That's telling me I'm missing something, and it may be something big.

And I'm still dreaming. And the nightmares are back.



and as I watch you disappear into my head
well, there's a man who's telling me I might be dead

And I think part of it comes down to...trust paired with confusion. The trust is there, it's not unquestioning, but it's reliable. But the confusion is also threaded through, because...well, when all this started, when the two-week limit was handed down, at the very first? I thought it was a joke. I was playing along until it was made clear that no, this was a serious proposal.



so I'll waste my time and I'll burn my mind
I'm Miss Nothing, I’m Miss Everything

And then everything that followed gave me bigger things to deal with than puzzlement, so it's only now I'm getting back to it.

I'll sort everything, eventually. I know that. We categorize, we pattern, we label, we evaluate, and a large bit of that is still useful past the paleolithic. And some things are just going to take time. It's just in between, I find the layers wrapped around everything a bit...odd. I keep stumbling on the search for the path.

I'll get there. I'll find it again. I have the tools. Everything is just...odd, right now, strained and strange and stranding, and may remain so for some time.

Like that's new, but...still.