Is It Me Or...

... is everything shit? I am not referring to the book but to my life.
Well, what can I say... it all started yesterday - at the gym of all places.
Perhaps it was simply not a good day, perhaps I was tired from a little too much too soon - I cannot quite say. Anyway, I found myself on the treadmill letting my eyes wander as you do and oh the envy, the desperation, the hopelessness. Whomever I looked at seemed super slim, super fit, in top form. Whilst I was never further from Greek Goddess and closer to red-faced chubbster.
So inevitably, I got myself really down, sort of went through the motions and went home, depleted, not elated.
On my way there I had visions of myself being alone forever, felt desperately in need of a hug and convinced myself that there was NEVER ANYONE there when I NEEDED THEM.
Also my life is crap, I am ugly, an underachiever, unfit and totally not on point where ambitions/plans for future are concerned.
I really worked myself into a state. And found that also I am fat and unlovable, a control freak, a weirdo, a bitter bitch, and basically all things nice.

In a brief moment of rationality I told myself this mood will not last. It will pass. Ride it out, tomorrow is another, a better day. That helped a little. However, I was also frustrated by that fact that I had these thoughts in the first place, that I was convinced of it all, however irrational.
And that is the funny thing, one part of you goes, calm down dear, it's not that bad, you are in fact quite alright, while the other goes into uber-sensitive loser of the year mode convinced that nothing, but NOTHING, is good (enough) in one's life, least of all oneself.

I'm a strong believer in the well known "This too shall pass" - because it always does. No day is the same, same goes for moods and ups and downs. I need to believe that otherwise I'd just hide from the world forever wishing for the end.

I cannot control the chemistry of my brain, but I try to cope with what it does to me.
Physical activity helps they say... I believe yesterday was a slip. Well it'd better be. Greek Goddess' patience is wearing thin anyway.

Still no six pack. We aren't impressed and think of stuffing our face every five minutes.

Brussels

It is a quiet sadness

which comes over me

i look at dead leaves of yesteryear

4 pigeons

flapping their wings

noisily

across 4 adjacent strips of garden

like 4 girlfriends

lined up

at the beach

those pigeons their thoughts

It's not quiet around me.

Radios - not blaring but
gently crooning

mothers - shushing naughty
sons and daughters

there's the breeze rustling through the bamboo

hammers hammering

drills drilling

planes overheard

birds

butterflies

but

quietly

quietly

the tiny tufts

of

poplar tree seeds

settle

everywhere

as does my sadness