He didn't say broom tree. He said prune tree.

Sometimes, I will do things to prove that I have no fear, that I am truly brave; but mostly I am just end up proving that I am reckless.

I am probably never without fear, it's just that sometimes I am able to stomp that fear into a mud hole but it always shows back up because it never really goes away.

"Just because you are paranoid doesn't mean people are not trying to get you" comes to mind when I think about my anxiety. A part of my mind says that my anxiety is all in my head and another part recites all of the oral tradition of what can go wrong.

...

"You look worried."

"I look worried because doom chases me."

I should get HOLD FAST knuckle tattoos.

I wrote three days in a row and then skipped a day and then stopped.

I been trying to read a chapter or two a day and I am almost not failing at that.

The yard needs to be mowed.

I did get a hair cut. The person cutting my hair asked where I was last week and I told here and then she asked about the week before that; I was at least three weeks over do.

I need to remind myself to keep rowing when I have the sails down because they were working against me. I have a point fixed on the horizon of where I want to go but the tides and the winds seem to be against me. I fight to readjust my course and say "Fuck you winds," but I do not know if I fight the winds because I have a true desire to reach my point or whether I do it just to spite what blows.

Having a fixed point is an improvement because I usually just let the waves and wind take me.

At times my eyes fall from the horizon and I just watch the ocean splashing over the gunwale.