Time check:

This insomnia and fucked up sleep pattern thing is proving to be a huge problem because I crave tacos at 3.00am in the morning and where the hell am I going to find Mexican food in the middle of the night. It is also around this time I start to feel a giant gaping hole in my gut from the intense and deafening loneliness, and so fill it with frivolous thoughts of suicide and/or disappearance. The thing in my gut has turned into a void, an oblivion - consuming everything within a two-mile radius. Alive and whole. Is it possible to disappear within yourself, or die without actually being dead?

Time check:
4.04am - Time to do the dishes.

I booked my tickets to Iceland when I was crawling through miles of emotional turmoil, self-doubt, and sheer hatred for everything and everyone around me. I needed to go somewhere alone, get lost in the veins of the world, be reminded again of why we're here, stand at the foot of something so large I cannot see the end of.

As I travelled along the outskirts of the mountains, hiked up the gentle slopes leading to a glacier covered in volcanic dust, and stroked the surface of a hot spring, I wanted to feel small and insignificant like I didn't matter; like none of my problems mattered, like nothing in the world could be so important we start to hurt the people around us. In a way, it was a form of self-discovery, something I had never been so brave to explore. But it felt as though by looking outward I found something much deeper within.

Standing at the mouth of a river, overlooking this vast expanse before me, I thought: everything that has happened to me in life has prepared me for this exact moment. Every heartbreak, every beating, every curse, every betrayal, every time someone told me I will never amount to anything, every rejection, every broken promise, every bitter memory, every lie, every spit in the face, every stab to the heart, every every every every every every every. I took a deep, long breath, and held it in. I gathered all the 'every's in my tiny lungs like picking up a hundred marbles strewn over the ground until I had them all in my hands. 

Then very slowly, I exhaled.

It's 8.08AM here in Frankfurt, 2 hours until my flight to Reykjavik. The 13-hour flight was a nightmare - I didn't get to sleep, I watched 2 movies, 1 episode of Friends and 1 episode of Suits. My back/spine hurts, and I need to pee but I don't want to give up my good seat at the café. Right now I feel a lot like crap, but I'm hoping it all gets better with food, and some sun, and hopefully some sleep.

These have been a tough few months, and I've spent the last couple of weeks trying to readjust my perspective because if it's anything I've learned from dealing with difficult people, it's that you can't change them, but you can change the way you feel about them. I've had the fortunate help of some of the greatest minds like Tolstoy, Gibson, Rand, and Marx to guide me with their limitless wisdom, telling me how sometimes these things happen to try us, and sometimes we are just surrounded by assholes. 

Today was especially difficult- I've had to sell an inanimate object that Kenny and I have grown unaccustomedly attached to, and I feel it is a social requirement to not feel anything about it just because it's inanimate- I can't help but. So I'm still grieving, and I'm allowing myself to be filled with emotions however unwarranted they are, because as much as I'm trying to recalibrate myself at this point, I know this much is true: I don't ever want to become a cynic, I don't ever want to stop believing in the good in people, even if it means being proven wrong every single time.

Okay. Deep breaths. Now here we fucking go.

Today was a good day. I've chosen to lead with that because days are always unassuming. You start it without knowing how it will end, or what could happen in the middle. But today was a good day.

It's been awhile since I've had good days. I mean, really good days. Days when very little go wrong, the fight that you've fought so hard trying to win just gets a little easier that day, people are nicer, everything just feels... Right. The start of this year has been absolute shit, to say the least. And I'm not saying things will get better from here, because I'm a pessimist so I expect bad things to happen and when they don't, when I get good days like these, I'm not in the moment to appreciate it because I'm just waiting for the next bad thing to happen. But today I'm in the moment. And this could be the calm before the storm, but the next time something bad happens, which could be tomorrow or in two hours (I told you I'm a pessimist), I will remember I had this one good day which can sometimes make the other 700 bad days make you feel less like wanting to kill yourself.

Today I met a Russian customer and spent 20 minutes talking to her about Russian literature.

I also had a burrito for dinner.

Good day.