"At Arms Length, I Will Hold You There"

That which you judge, you become.

How monstrous. I need to start being a bit responsible again. I go through phases: oh, this time I'll be a fuck-off burnout and ignore everything. Oh, I guess now I'll be little Ms. Perfect. Okay, time to choose again. I learned when you're not being yourself, you're just discrediting your worth. I'm worth my time. It's funny because when we're little, we write in diaries and think we're so important. We think that it's enough to just document your life, rant on paper, go on and on about a singular person, you. But now I think it needs more purpose. There's people depending on me. At least, that's what I tell myself. I have a family, I have friends. Yeah, my friends are a bit of a clusterfuck from how they were a year ago. Yeah, stuff's changing. Big deal. I never liked stability. I feel okay alone today. When you feed that craving to distract yourself, it gets worse and worse. I don't want to get used to being alone, though. It's easy. It gets lonely, but it's really easy. Loving people is tough shit. I wonder why life is the way it is. Not the societal stuff. That's easy to trace. But the loving, the caring, the overall goals of it. Maybe that's societal, too. But I want it to be something more, something innate. I want to love and care and make good people laugh and be happy. It's just a desire in me. I used to think I was evil, I would become a murderer. I was always worried about being possessed by the devil. But now, I see I just need to step forward. I'm no longer writing for me, but for the person or people I will bring into the world. I keep thinking about what Dee said about having children. She said it was scary, and she didn't want to bring someone into a world she thought was corrupt. Isn't it insane just how morally obligated women are in terms of humanity? We bring forth more people. Yeah, the men help us obviously, but in the end we choose whether or not to bear the child. We know how shitty life can be, all the pain, all the people who kill themselves, all the drunks, and yet something tells us, It's worth it. I've made it this far, and I know someone else can. I will teach them, I will love them. I will make their life better than mine. I don't see children really as connected to their mothers. We are all alone, essentially. It is the sad truth of the human body. Trapped in cavities, filled with liquid and no room for anything else. We can share thoughts in the presence of oxygen. 'Leh, you'll be loved forever. You are loved before you exist here with us. I love you. I will make your life good (not easy, not simple, not boring, but good). You possibly have the craziest, worst mother on earth, but you will cry and laugh and love and hate and I will help you. That's my wish, now that it's 11:11. Goodnight.