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I spent the entire day feeling afraid and nerve-wracked, which is the bad side of mixing mania and memories. Of all the major holidays, Halloween got off the lightest where my father was concerned, and I still feel like this. I don’t even.
Yes, that’s what’s going through my head right now, all self-monitoring defeated: I don’t even. There are no straws to grasp, it’s just the pure memory of harsher times that’s driving my thought patterns. And I’d hesitate to call it memory, really… an instinct of constant fear is a somewhat better way to put it.
Anyways. I DON’T EVEN. I’m trying not to let it get in the way of things, like eating or NaNoWriMo, but I DON’T EVEN.
To make up for the lack of content, I feel like the surreal beginning of this Jim Henson production fits in perfectly:
(For the record, after watching the movie trailer, I think that’s some mood whiplash right there.)