And at once I knew I was not magnificent

It's a jumble today, my head. Half finished phrases. Half finished stories. Explanations that aren't the right explanations. I don't know how to write the things I want to say and the things I know how to write don't matter.

Sometimes everything comes crashing down. For a little bit now, I've been watching that good feeling fade, pretending its not because I know the other one just a little too well. There's nothing wrong. I'm not depressed. I'm just absorbing, paying attention more, back in my head instead of just running with it.

I'm constantly trying to fit these different pieces of me together but they're from different puzzles. I'm good at seeing the absurd in situations. I laugh at inappropriate times. But at the end of the day, I take everything so seriously. So fucking seriously. I've been having a good time lately, dabbling in iresponsibility, but I miss the goody two shoes me. I miss the me that was the friend you could call 24 hours a day because they'd be sober and sane instead of the friend you call when you want someone to help you with a whiskey bottle. I love being back in the kitchen, but I miss the group home. The kitchen makes me feel guilty. Guilty that I get to do something I love every day while other people are struggling to make ends meet with a job they hate and have out of necessity. Guilty that my roll in society is to make a frivolous luxury item.

Maybe guilt is the issue right now.

Guilt because I haven't been a better sister.

Guilt because I haven't been great at keeping touch with everyone at home.

Guilt because I'm not doing anything to make the world a better place.

Guilt because I came from enough privilege to escape a life of drugs/alcohol.

Guilt that I've been so damn happy when there's so much wrong and so many people hurting.

Guilt for things I could change and things I can't.

I know I can be a better person than the person I've been lately. Something's gotta change.