29 May 2022

The ninth day of my diary entry.
I slept earlier last night than usual and woke up earlier than usual to the arrival of guests.
I received a message from a follower today. It felt weirdly comforting. It is a new feeling.
I have not been able to reply to the messages recently, but I will do so today, hopefully. I will try my best.
I spent the day entertaining and preparing the house and food for the guests.
Too hot today.
The family is toying with the idea of a one-day trip and I have already started looking for excuses to dodge it.
There was a function in the evening, which I gladly missed.
Nothing new. The same as usual. There is no new work leads on the horizon.
I started proofreading today. It reminded me how much I love proofreading, editing, and reading books.
I hope to keep up this practice of proofreading. 

Oh, and yesterday I came across a diary entry which had quoted a poem by Mary Oliver, and coincidentally I was reading a poem by Mary Oliver too. I was reading the collection "Thirst".

Today has been a busy and occupied day, starting with guests and then neck-deep in some proofreading work. There were small pangs of interior ruffle and discomposition. Some moments of my mind and soul dissociating here and there. But, I managed to stop my head from cleaving into multiple particles of worthless jitters and twitches, and I pulled it through by successfully maintaining my poise and cleaving my mind to the chores of today's unusual routine. 

Today's mood: tired, tizzy, and tasked.

- Oizys.

 

28 May 2022

Eighth day.
I woke up earlier than usual for food preparation as guests were about to come, but they canceled at the last minute.
I ate some porridge but it had too much-clarified butter, which made me sick as hell.
I searched for some books to read.
I went to the tailor to get some skirts resized.
The roads were at an impasse.
I brought some ice cream. But I don't think I can eat them.
Searching for the works of author - Blythe Baird.

At first, I thought it was the porridge, but I have been feeling too much agitation. In my head. Which has created a cavernous black pit of despair in my stomach. Like a semi-dormant volcano of anxiety. Charring my variety meat. Roasting my mind until my tender mother is blistered. Stiffening my ventricles and hardening my valves until the blood stops pumping. How do I stop this? How do I stop my fears from grilling my happiness? How do I stop my angst from charbroiling my peace?

Today’s mood: dreadful, malaise and tormented.

- Oizys.