Lately, I’m really terrible at writing. I just can’t. I’ve been out of internet for a little while at home. That doesn’t help much either. But when I sit and try to touch my keyboard, nothing comes. In my head I feel the soup of words spinning, but they stay there like they are in a fishbowl, you can stare at them and see them, but they can’t get out. That’s how it is.
Fishbowl. I can’t even draw one, I know.
Life has been a bit empty somehow. I’m struggling with this emptiness, with this nothingness inside of me. Other people seem to experience this less – they don’t feel I’m empty, but for myself, I’m one big hollow fishbowl. You see right through it, because there is nothing. So there is nothing to understand.
I lost motivation at work (again, or maybe I didn’t lose it-maybe it never went away). I just go to work and do what is necessary. I pay my bills. But it’s as hollow as it sounds.
My grandmother passed away. I can’t even say I feel sad about that. The past and history with all of that, created this superweird situation. No one really misses her, and that is superweird. Yet its superweird how things developed (or didn’t) through the years and all the things that happened created scars that never heal. It’s weird to talk bad about the dead, but at the same time, dead people can still influence. Good and bad. It’s so complicated that I don’t know how to feel about it, and trying to explain tires me so much it blocks every single word that wants to come out. Death is weird to me anyway. Sometimes you see it coming, but when it happens, it’s so , weird. Enough about that.
Lately I’m less comfortable in my studio. I live in a building with few other studios. Some neighbours are really noisy and a bit messy and that irritates me. And I miss an outside space. A seperate room. I can not even really welcome people, my house is small and it’s just (except the bathroom) one long space. I can’t hang things on the wall because the wall is so bad it falls off immediatly and when you bump it it immediatly has a scratch or a little hole. I don’t need a big house, but one seperate room would be so great. When you step into my house, you see everything- kitchen, my couch& bed in one (just two mattrasses that I fold every day).
I stopped going to Jiu Jitsu. I felt broken for a while, not able to go. Yet my motivation is nowhere to be found. I know it’s good for me, but I don’t progress, I am not so happy and funny as the others and I just don’t blend in. That is how I feel, and I still didn’t go. I haven’t practised for months now. And I don’t know what to do with it, but still being a member and paying doesn’t make sense, does it?
Love flew back to her home country. That means I’m home alone now. I’m happy she went to see her friends and family and that she is off.
Now I’m sitting here in this house, not sure what to do. It’s weekend, but I just sit, stare, wonder. I don’t act. There is no motivation in me to do anything. I don’t want to cook, eat, move, go anywhere, read, just nothing.
All I can be is the empty fishbowl.