I found this in my notes on my phone, which is where a lot of my writing tends to take place. This was my head one month into quarantine, apparently.
Where does my “person” end and my “self” begin?
Is it the most true to remain alone and unattached or to nurture my own needs within interpersonal context?
When am I being selfish and when am I taking care of myself?
Is a certain level of desire for attention REALLY me, or is it purely ego? I was beginning to think a relationship with ego was necessary. To find what falsities the ego has built within and work with them to propel personal sustainability in a broader societal context (since I must as a parent, to some degree) and determine what aspects I can shed and what aspects are so deeply ingrained I must work with them to maintain sound mind.
Unfortunately now I’m beginning to wonder if I will ever have control over the elements of the ego I find distasteful. Knowing certain emotions are brought on by phantasmic ego stories doesn’t make the emotions easier to dispel. Sometimes, as I wait for them to pass, I still find myself unable to save reaction when it feels as though my heart is shattering into a million pieces because my favorite leaf was taken by the wind in that moment.
I don’t know.
The journey will never produce an answer.
That’s the whole thing.
I know there will be unrest and always internal battles, but I want to find the peace, the pause.
Perhaps that does mean being alone all the time, not just most of the time.
but arent i a human?
human hurts
🖤🖤 roxii
roxii 
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