Because Sometimes When I Go Inside I Want to Leave

Is this normal?  I mean, I know there is really no such thing...

I have this love/hate relationship with museums.  Also zoos.  And the movies.  And stores. Pretty much any place that requires me to be A) inside and B) paying attention.  

I know I am not alone in this. 

But I am always feeling guilty.  Look at all these people enjoying themselves. Shopping therapy?  More like shopping PTSD.  Except for sometimes, when it is fine.  WTF?  Why does it change?  Why am I so unpredictable.  Why am I sweating when everyone is cold?  Let's just face it:::  

Our minds and our bodies are fucking strange.

That's it.  I should stop trying to reason this out (it's the hormones, it's the sugar, it's the exhaustion).  WHATEVER.  Why do we need to justify it?  Can't we just feel what we feel what we feel what we feel what we feel?

Nope.  Not me.  I have this

deep seated need to overanalyze.  

Why am I sweating in the gem room?  Am I overly sensitive to the amethyst? Is it the lighting.  Why am I so damn sensitive?  The loops, the endless brain loops.  

Moral of the story being::: THESE ARE JUST THOUGHTS.  Really.  That's it.  Neither true nor false, nor requiring an analysis of such. THE ARE JUST THOUGHTS.

Just another day/moment of my fucked up and beautiful insanity. 

Actually, You Can't Have It All

THIS (here and now) Is Where The Work Begins