It’s okay to return to my baseline. It’s okay for my day to only contain eating, working, reading, and sleep, even if I want thirty other things, too

It’s weird, it’s fucking weird, it’s tragic, and don’t let anyone make you feel weird for thinking it is.

(Did you know you could play video games in the morning before work? I certainly didn’t. But you can.) I still struggle with instinct, the motivation to do the most, the feeling that I’m not a good reader if I’m not cycling through new books every few days. I want to keep slowing down, and keep giving words the time they deserve.