Chat is progressing. We talked about the reason of life. I have a few theories. Nothing that hasn’t been written, preached, painted on canvas or magnified in a therapist’s office a thousand times before. It would have been nice when I was born for “my purpose in life” to have been wrapped up in a scroll around the umbilical cord and handed to me when I turned 18. I think that would have been the best idea yet. I’d stick around until I accomplished what ever it is I’m here to do. I’m really drawing a blank on this one though.
Enemy gave me a pad of paper and color pencils to do what ever I wanted to do last week. It enabled me to ask questions without so much apprehension, although I only draw lines. It was less stressful having my mind free from looking around the office and window and at the freaky stuffed animals. I swear I’m going to flick lighted matches at them some day. My friend said I should bring in a seam ripper and start ripping them to shreds. I am not a hostile person. I was asked if the time change this coming Sunday will be a problem – some of his clients have problems with the days getting shorter – I said “no”. I already draw the drapes and close the blinds before the sun goes down when ever the mood strikes me. I find myself counting the time down so that I can go to my bedroom and go to sleep at a reasonable time. There is one thing about chat that I would change – consistency. I don’t like not knowing what I’m going to do for the 45 minutes before going there.