As always I’m unclear on where this is supposed to begin. But, I can at least say what it’s about. The dichotomy between the pieces of my person has become painful again. I truly wish that I were capable(not truly) of looking away or burying my head in the sand. This world, this reality, it’s so very warped and broken. But I think the real struggle is that it’s fixable. There are other states that things could exist in, reachable states...that aren’t reachable. I walked along the river today - it was beautiful out. The water, the sunshine, the skyline. Everything shimmering. People enjoying a (likely brief) bit of liberation from the cold. I stared and silently took it all in and there was not an inkling of peace to be found. I closed my eyes and imagined being in the country and in the mountains away from the city away from people, to truly appreciate the magnitude and beauty of this green and brown and blue rock that we inhabit. I intellectually know and knew that nature is beautiful...but I couldn’t feel it. There is so much here and yet it feels wasted. I feel wasted. I spend most of my time pondering economics and politics and psychology, wondering about how we’ve organized ourselves, about what we’re doing and where we’re going and why. We have so much potential, realized and unrealized, for both good and ill. I just...I wonder if I agree with Samwise Gamgee - “that there’s some good in this world and it’s worth fighting for”. I struggle not to let myself think of this world as a Sodom and Gomorrah that I should turn my back on before I turn to salt - I mean, I’m already full of salt anyway. And yet, I don’t think the world is so. I know that we are not beyond saving, but maybe it’s just that I feel like I’m beyond saving. The crippling loneliness that eats away at my soul for no real reason other than that I haven’t found the people that see things as I do and use the same words to describe them is crippling. The truth is, that I have found them. But it’s not enough. Sure, they’re not an army, so maybe that’s what they have been insufficient. But I think the fear that lives beneath is that it’s not them, it’s me. That I am the one who is too weak to drag myself out of the muck. You can’t break yourself out of a prison that you carry with you. You can’t break chains if you instead aim to tighten them.