It’s lacking an anchor in all things necessary to keep all idealism in motion. I don’t eat, I don’t sleep and I don’t love anymore.
It’s not like I’m going to sit here and piss and moan about having the greatest job on the planet, but I should really try and stay alive through it all to make sure that it’s worth the risk.
I met someone last night that made me realise the value of love, I’m not saying I love the girl, but I feel she’s going to be very important to me in the new process of this word I’m trying to fashion back into my repertoire of words. Balance.
I’d ask people I know in similar positions, but I don’t need to, I know exactly how they make it all work and it’s not the life I want or need.
In the past few weeks, I’ve met some pretty astonishing people and their balance. They stray, they leave and they care more about forward motion than balance. If there ever was a true companion who could happily take that risk of finding me, such an overdriven idiot, and embody it with love that makes it all worth the work. I’ll marry them.
Until then, I’ll be dead before I turn down work over food.