There is always a quick breaking and reminder of the things I find most painful in life, and the layers of that pain. I find myself studying the fundamentals of art or a craft soon after this, as if it’s a way to rebuild myself. I haven’t worked on music in a while. Maybe I will practice scales on piano. Instruments are best learned at an early age if you want to ingrain them in your memory. Such is my early wound that no matter how I progress it becomes fresh again. In this absurd world all I can do is use it as an instrument. Why am I so open on this forum? Am I desperately trying to evoke the curiosity of invisible stalkers? Am I crying for help because I can’t afford therapy? Am I just vain? The most powerful reason is that I am trying to understand myself, again and again and again, because I keep forgetting myself, again and again and again… ![[IMG_9267.jpeg]]