The questing beast


The last few weeks have been hard. Somewhat enlightening, but mostly just hard. And not necessarily in the way I anticipated.
Moving was stressful and hectic and hard, it’s over now and weirdly enough I have no really strong feelings about any of it (apart from never wanting to see a box again) and that, my friends, freaks me out-that’s how emotionally dulled I am, I literally just don’t care. Thats bad on so many levels. The only thing that gets any fight out of me these days is if I feel one of the critters needs me, thats about it. I could care less about my self really, and thats left me a bit shell shocked to be honest-what is the point really if I don’t care? I told my mother this and she said it ‘sounded bad, like depression’ and maybe it is-I’m so far in I can’t even see the forest for the trees maybe. Maybe some of my lack of motivation stems from this. Or maybe I’m just lazy. F*ck if I know. Who even is this person I’ve become?
I guess the best way to describe it is if I could look at my future I just see a big long blank-sure I do what I have to to live but theres not much commitment beyond that and I mostly do that to please other people (my family basically), but I feel a serious disconnect even from them lately, whenever I make plans I don’t really get excited or enjoy making them-I can’t see any thing changing so I just go through the motions, but really it’s that excitement, anticipation and motivation that make you succeed so without them it’s all for naught. Anyway it’s a weird realisation to come to and I’m not quite sure what to do about it as yet.

I also recently read a story that mentioned another story, it used the questing beast (from the once and future king) as a metaphor for obsession: you spend your life hunting the beast, it consumes you, then for whatever reason you can’t hunt for a while, this in turn affects the beast, who without you hunting him, feeding him your obsession, get’s ill, where upon you find the beast……but instead of slaying it and ending the cycle you nurse it to health and then start hunting it again. You hunt the beast, the beast feeds off your obsession and the circle remains complete. In the story the point was that if you stop feeding your beast (your obsession, whatever it may be) it will die. The story did a better job of describing it than that but I felt a deep level of recognition with that description-anxiety is my beast and I feed him well. I need to stop and let him die-easier said then done!
Having not read the questing beast I can’t say how accurate that metaphor is (googling makes me think it may be more of a metaphor for frivolity and bloodlust *shrugs*)-but from now on in my mind any consuming obsession, good or bad, will be visualised as a questing beast 🙂 All fangs and claws and hidden dangers.

In other news the incel forum has gone down again, if anyone from there reads tis drop me an email and let me know whats going on, if not I guess I’ll just keep an eye out and hope it pops up again.

I’ve been loving Julia and Angus Stone these last few days:

On that note,


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