hopefully more ok

i think about all the times i looked at the sky when things still had meaning to me and my narrative was compelling, with themes of struggle and ruin and rebirth and renewal, but with every day that passes I feel that meaning passes away, even though today I feel “nothing” I will feel less than today’s “nothing” tomorrow—how is that possible ? i think of all the times over the past 7 years, where i’ve looked up at the sky, thinking about how much I used to feel, hoping that one day I would feel that alignment again,, yet here I still am, with a tired old narrative with little driving character development, unsure, still, about everything ~ maybe that’s just the monotony of life that is in itself a theme; a refusal to move beyond an old and tired narrative, a distrust in the process, being too eager to have arrived at a conclusion and closing off fate, festering in a pool of misalignment in identity and desire—the narrative of who i was does not need to linearly progress into who i am becoming, it is okay to not want what i used to desire, i don’t have to cry and beat myself up for unfeeling and unwanting and unbeing, i stray away from identifying and projecting too “much” because i am afraid of being misunderstood yet here I am, misunderstood in identity and desire; but I guess it’s ok, not progression or regression but just being somewhere , always , hopefully more ok