I Hope We'll Be Here When They're Through With Us

Realised finally why I am so resistant to getting an eye test. Have so little identity that I am clinging even to negative traits. ('That's Phil, his eyesight is shit.')

My most distant friends are the closest to me.

Recurring dreams are very rare, and occur only when I am truly obsessing over something.

Fantasy scenario is theoretically a possibility, but practical costs and likely ruinous. I keep circling it.

Have discovered a new identification figure.

I have incredible ideas every day. I am convinced of their brilliance. I can't execute on any of them.

Recently I've been reminded of all the things I wanted to pursue that were cut short. I had mostly forgotten about them until now.

I don't write about myself very often. Afraid of spiralling. Will probably stop now?

Why all of this? Because I wanted to write and was struggling.