“Diary entry: 7/17/24 ~ subconscious“

I woke up irritated from an unpleasant dream. I think my subconscious is trying to tell me something, but it’s painfully unaware of who I am. Don’t try me. I will play dumb to the end of time or until this feeling fades away, whichever comes first. I’m not picky. I lock the details of the unanswered plead for action from subconscious to conscious in my dream journal without a second glance. Besides that, I have an above-average day.

There were no big highlights at work other than the discovery that toast, pilled high with fix-in, is hard to eat. I took a stroll downtown. I did not check a single thing from my self-improvement to-do list, but I am not worried; there is no deadline for self-promotion, and I’m finding peace with that.

I still feel like I have an endless supply of tomorrows, though I know how time works. There is an endpoint. I become existential when hiding from tidbits of myself. For me to live the life I want, I have to act, but for now, I can’t waste strength beating myself up.