Trying not to attack(h) myself.

I'm scared of going off of my medication.  I've never been afraid in the past, and I've gone off of much higher doses.  I shouldn't even be worried about it.  I cling to it too desperately.  But I've also never been this isolated, with no one to care for to help me feel sane.  No one to care about me.  These are the hills and dark valleys of my life.

Trying not to attach(k) myself.

I don’t know the reason I follow the same paths over and over.  I hope for something different every time.  And while I wander, I don’t really move.

It takes something special to remind me that there is real beauty in the world.  Something so singular that I forget it exists most of the time.  If there is a pinnacle to the Human mind, then it has to be some kind of artistic, abstract appreciation for real, concrete beauty.  For something real that exists only in the ether.