Does the portal come straight back again?

OK THEN.
Just quickly before I have to run off and do life like I always do: fast and somewhat awkward.
THE CHALLENGE HAS BEEN DISTINGUISHED!
FUCK the challenge.
Have you ever just stopped and looked at the shape of your fingerprints? Like, in a real 'how would I in actual realness scrape these off if I happened to be part of some criminal activity?' kind of way?? Or is it just me?

So the healthy eating challenge just shone light on how much crap I was eating, and so by the first week I gave up. Then the second week swung around, with about as much force as that time I played baseball and got hit in the arm by some uncoordinated ten year old wearing knee pads and hiding one slice of orange in his short pocket for whatever reason, and I just ate healthy because I was tired of never sleeping properly. I thought if I couldn't fix my over-imaginative brain, I would fix everything else except for exercising.
Who wants to exercise after sleeping only four hours interrupted with the light on, waking up with eye pain and neck ache only to slog on off to a double shift in yesterdays clothes?
Exactly.

~lifegoals

One week without sugar was IMMENSELY SATISFYING. I felt cleansed, calm, almost as if I was shining out some kind of magical light of health and vitality. Instead of sugar I made sure to eat one salad each day for either lunch or dinner and drink five glasses of water.

Things that helped my extreme night anxiety:
~ Knitting with a tv show on in the background
~ Water
~ The light on
~ Time, in which nothing happened, and the horrors of those articles with all those poor people suffering for no reason faded from my memory like all things must

Basically nothing else helped. They say it will help, all the people all the time, everyone who isn't experiencing the actual anxiety that is about something random and fictional and mostly improbable.
They all say to take medication, sleeping tablets, a hot drink, think of something else, of course it won't happen, it never happens, blah blah, etc etc.
It doesn't matter to my overworked brain that it most likely will never happen. All that matters is I somehow have these thoughts and they aren't going away.
Anxiety is bending down to press your serene, calm, smooth cheek against the cool floor, while underneath that floor your face is staring upwards, full of lines, scratch marks, and bags, scrunched up in a never-ending scream.


So! A little bird follows me around, but at a distance, and always perches on a handrail as I walk past, but turns its back to me as I do, and then I turn to peek at him and he turns his head slightly but then looks away quickly, and I turn too, and laugh and laugh. Because every time I walk outside he flies around and lands on the rail and looks at me, then turns his back, and I pretend not to notice.
-- Kind of like other experiences that also made me laugh and laugh.

And that's a wrap!
Au revoir!
Or something!

   ;".___.";
 <(;___#)>