Stretching

I feel the pain of something deep in my bones, something really sad and lonely and stolen. I can't imagine myself getting any better or being anything but sick and stuck.

I've started taking more brain supplements and since then I've become hyper aware of all the problems I have. I don't understand them, I don't want them, and I don't know how to change them. I suppose that's where God comes in. Or where God is.

I don't really want to do anything. I want to crawl in a hole and sleep and be sad. I want to break up with this life, but there doesn't seem to be a way to. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. They all meld together like they're one big block of pain. And yet I don't feel that pain very well. I feel this sort of thorough emptiness. Something that is enhance by clouds, banjos, and daffodils dying.

I boiled some cinnamon and clove oil on the stove to create a musical for my nose to waltz through in the apartment. Kaia and Corban are asking me to hang out with them at a place on Sunrise and Campbell, and I feel torn. Do I step out or do I spend time here and just let it rest? I feel like spending time here. I want to try avocado and let that be. I want to try goat yogurt and let that be. I want to get some more sesame seed oil and let that be. That's more important and I know it. I hunger for more, both intellectually and physically, relationally and metaphysically. I want. I need. And I want to supply myself with exactly what I'm craving, no matter how impossible it seems.

Do I need friends right now or food?