AnOublietteofThought

These steps are a towering behemoth raging against my progress. Their ongoing friction aimed at my forward momentum mocks the pace I drum into being.

Step. (Feel that?) Step. (What happened to not enjoying pain?) Step. (Can you move any slower?) Step. (Are you even moving at all?) Step. One. Two. Three...Twenty-five. A fraction forward.

Better I fry in the sun! Better my heart explode in the heat! Better I quit instead of torturing myself so! Better I stop complaining and take another bloody step.

Eventually it will get easier. Eventually my soles won't mind. Eventually I will forget today...and feel much more like myself.

These steps are a towering behemoth raging against my progress. Their ongoing friction aimed at my forward momentum mocks the pace I drum into being. KissKiss. May they feel me dance!

Written July 23, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Mountainous, our peaks. Rivers undulating with a streaming fixation that tramples the rarely wandered path into an oblivion of cloudless skies. Distant suns sparkle life's whispered lullabies to crackle every bark into a howling symphony of distorted clamber, and a lush bed of dew-drenched blades carve dawn's scintillating awakening into every gasp we quake— slice by soul-seeking slice. Could but we satiate the undiscovered thirst rippling across the surface of our meager cavorting, we might learn flight...

Instead, we stumble, bleary companions salvaged from a wilderness of yesterdays.

Written July 22, 2026 © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

I just finished a massive bowl of mashed potatoes with smoked gouda cheese — Oink! Oink! Yuuuummmmm! Now I'm putting myself to sleep with Masters of the Universe. It has me thinking about my childhood because I loved this show.

When I think of the various movies and tv shows I watched as well as the books I read, it makes a lot of sense on why I'm attracted to who and what I'm attracted to. My many a fantasy are well accounted for. I'm not sure if I should be disturbed or not. I mean, I'm deeply disturbed. I'm just not sure if I am about that.

I'm told that you cannot expect someone to be good at almost everything. I strongly question that assumption. I think it's more that many just lack the interest and curiosity. Or maybe they just allow their desires to get beat down by the expectancy of normalcy.

Thoughts. Thoughts. Lots of thoughts. Dare to read my mind? Mwahahaha! *cough* I mean, do you wanna? *winkwinknudgenudge* I have the power!

Written July 22, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Scratch-and-sniff where vagrants waft in waves careening leisure. Festoon, my loon, where meager taps abstain to divert seizure. Engrave a lattice taught urbane to claim found fount of pleasure. Bide bought's trickle to subside less thirst become your measure.

Written July 20,2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought. ———

a little something to sleep on

Gone through the bunker... Rafters pigment fads' reverence of a looping lasso. Round and around — caught! Get down! Sand on sand, clustered, throat-clogging expanse. Doom the rotten! Doom begotten! Doom the room that flips lapsed bandwidth. Every message is a citadel forgotten... A memory misplaced... A lie within the truth of a lie critiquing understanding... Life's apprehending all of man's refusal to ascend. All that bend beyond the rend. All who call the lull of withdrawal a sin. All who spin just to recycle the loss of a win. Let's pretend! Let's make amends! Let's... ...this is the end.

Written July 20,2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

As of today, I have managed to keep eight pounds off overall. It's not what I wanted, but it's consistent, so I will take it. I'm trying to be easier on myself. At this rate, my goal should still be manageable by the end of the year. Since I have changed my days around in creating new habits, I think that will make it even more manageable.

The habit breaking is rough. It's getting easier, but I have a very addictive personality. I'm having to be very strict with myself so as not to stumble backwards. I'm not fond of being strict with myself. I'm also not fond of my breasts exploding out of my bras, so strict it will be. I'm still refusing to shell out $40 or more for something I have zero intention of needing very long.

Mindset is a bitch. I do not enjoy needing to be determined at this point in life. Life is not what I would like it to be, but I think that is probably the case for many. I'm thankful I have the time to complain.

As always, the news is highly frustrating and disturbing. It and my dreams stress me out. My dreams have been both extremely nice and extremely horrifying. I am not sure which is easier upon waking—the realization of something so wonderful being little more than a dream, or the memories of the unfathomably horrific and knowing that though it just a dream for me, it might not be for someone else.

It's been a little over a month since I made a few major life choices. That is what July appears to be being for me. Overall, I'm happy with them. I find my day-to-day more peaceful. I definitely hurt feelings with my choices. I own that. I'm not happy about doing so, but there are certain things I won't tolerate in my life no matter who someone is. I should have made one quite a time ago, but I made excuses for the person. That is a danger of seeing varying perspectives, and wanting to believe in people.

I think that is likely one of my biggest strengths and weaknesses simultaneously. I find it extraordinarily challenging to give up on someone. To me, that feels like a failure all the way around. However, sometimes there is very just cause for just walking away or placing considerable buffers between. I am getting better at that.

It hurts me a bit to intentionally do so. My nature is to help and heal. Going against that can be a hell of a personal challenge. As I get older, I just don't have the energy reserves I once had not to do so. Another thing I'm trying to figure out...how to keep my nature intact when life seems determined to lesson it out of me. Good thing I'm hardheaded.

I am trying to keep an optimistic mindset. It is challenging. Especially this time of year. I refuse to not succeed on that. It's possible I will fail at every other goal in life, but my spirit will not be defeated. I will have my happily ever after. I almost wrote, “Even if it kills me.” Alas, I think that'd be tempting fate a wee bit too much.

Written July 19, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Sodden quills glisten a bespoken temptation beaded on the arrhythmia of a stuttered confession. What nightmares primp in golden hue? Mere jaunts livid on torment of a pacing wyrm... Digested illogicals too bizarre to satiate the passing awe... I beget this illicit farce to a symphony of dawning restraint. I spill, encumbered with a growing satisfaction— lured indecent. ...I...scrawl...abundant... ever the deficient feed plagued by your survival.

Written July 17, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Summer remains a challenge for me. Especially when I'm trying to start new habits. I think I always find new habits difficult. Or rather stopping old habits difficult. It's recommended to ease in. I'm really not an ease in kind of personality. I'm on that all or nothing plane of existence. As in, I'm all full of a lot of nothing right now.

I'm finding having patience with the world challenging. I'm not accustomed to being irritated so much, I find it uncomfortable. Like an annoyance just beneath the skin that I can't quite reach. I am continuing to adjust, but I fear I'm losing pieces of myself in the process. My preferred pieces...

I guess that often occurs with the whole being an adult thing. I don't know. I suppose, it's time to get more strict with myself. That's really not my thing. It pushes my creativity to the back of my mind. Mostly I just want to get out and move.

The sun is a cage I'm determined to escape.

Written July 15, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

I am remiss to starve your smile enchanted when it dilapidates upon the ruins of precognitive exposure. The splash of sunken tip is a scar upon our spiral, and every gasp of spare entwine deepens the row in our parting. Maladaptive hunger strays in waste where donor once caved in blissful pull, and the cerulean dance bartering heaven with heart has become an unstable misnomer. Cruel is this lethargy burying what is within what may never see. Even more cruel is the cusp on which we're sliced. Night after night, in spite of life's light, we descend the harrowing all. For what? Brief purchase? A vandalized awe in possibility? Could it be that our unquenchable thirst for what is an insipid truth at best has addicted us to treasonous beat? Could it be we are wrong to thirst immortale?

Written July 15, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

As mouths move and voices stir, I wonder how blood can flow so differently. What rapt endeavor chose a single divergent path amongst the throng? Is it the location of ears upon varying heads that cause completely different brain patterns? Like a fine wine, does age and complexity matter?

I sit uncomfortable, listening. Digesting. Utterly and completely bewildered. Devaluing the academic surplus of diploma after diploma, and chastising my own ego for even pondering such ludicrousness. Perhaps such differences are merely the rudimentary reassurances that life will continue. How ironic that my own will not.

Could I? Would I? Might I dare to breed? Rather I run screaming into the hills, and thank my good fortune for a vast ineptitude of obedience and fertility. Rather I rot alone than succumb to the mindless drivel that continues to flood a far too familiar space, demanding I concede spark for stunted awareness and altered communication. Rather I fade from the Polaroid far too defined.

I smile, humored, informed my value is beyond the heights I refuse to scale. My lips quirk at dating advice that turns my stomach to even contemplate. I agree, most expectedly, that I'm a rather droll and unexciting person. My soul and well-being is prayed for. Might a god place his hand upon me in influence and esteem. My eyes twinkle at such a thought, for such an entity would surely find themselves elated by my presence. I keep it to myself. Needing to explain one's humor ruins the joy.

Off I go. Another congruence survived. Could it be this nightmare is never to be awakened from?

Written July 14, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.