For Frup’s Sake

Looking over last week’s post and the title nagged as familiar. I couldn’t quite place a finger. Nagging persists. Google “Square 1”, somewhere, on the bazillionth page, is a blog entry from yours truly. For fuck’s sake, I just plagiarized myself.

Mmkay, looooooong slow skeptical thinking. Guess who is nervous about trying this stuff again. Guess who has given himself PTSD over this shit. Guess who is super bad about keeping the faith and following through. Mother Hubbard in the cubbard with a rubber lover… Pardon the expletives.

So incoming self trauma.

I’m honestly thinking about picking up a shrink for this go-through. Might as well attend a support group too. My fears are many, isolating, depression, the inevitable crazy. Social anxiety, social ineptitude, burnout! Yet, I’m still compelled. Mother Hubbard!… Again, sorry.

What am I going to do differently? What can I do that I haven’t already done a millionth time before? What jank logic am I falling into? What am I not seeing? Oh, look! More uncertainty! More neuroses. Long, long sigh.

I’ll get computers outta the house? Go cyber sober. Which will keep me focused and bored as fuck, but honest. The advertising, though. I just don’t know. I have no idea what, why, or how. I’m a nervous bird. Yet, still compelled.

Times like these, I respect those people who can and do practice faith. What a skill! In the face of uncertainty, sometimes dauntingly so, the ability to keep optimistic, endure, and follow-through. Wow, what a nice gift to have.

Nervous and uncertain as I am, I’m gonna throw myself against this wall. Again. It’s a lifelong affliction, I’m sure. The hope is to convert that affliction into a blessing… Somehow.

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