2025-12-08 Journal Entry

9:00 PM

There’s a strange sensation I feel when I sit in silence for too long. It always sits in my belly slash solar-plexus area. It doesn’t itself feel too bad: warm, kinda tingly, shifting. But it is accompanied by this mental feeling of dread, of time-as-sandpaper.

I’m writing right now because I don’t really want to feel it. If I knew what it actually was I might not be so pissed about it, but it’s confusing + I feel like I don’t have control of my life when it’s there.

Its presence feels like proof that I truly don’t have much control of my emotions or actions. It’s a reminder that impulses rise + fall quickly just beyond perception at all times, this constant sea-foam rising + falling in the constant tide of my mind.