Sunday stuck.

An overwhelming sense of feeling stuck struck me today on this Sunday of mine. I don't know what my dreams are. I don't remember what they are. On this Sunday of mine this is how I feel even though I know it's not true. I know that my thoughts right now are not really the truth. This is a battle that I am faced with everyday. The Truths vs. Thoughts. I know that if I focus my energy into things I produce - I get what I am seeking. Except garnering this energy takes much out of me. My work takes a lot out of me since I have to interact with many people, adults, youth and children alike. It's because when I interact with people, I see who they are, I feel who they are and hundreds of thoughts run through me in relation to who I am as a person. I think about my interactions with them, who they were and are, and why they think and communicate the way they do.

---

Just be.

---

Sunday bloody sunday.

---

Unusual rant:

Helping people is not a fad. I get really annoyed by the anti-human trafficking fad things - it's similar to the pink ribbon breast cancer fad. Look fashionable, feel good about yourself. I was walking at an open fair and there was a booth. Buy this and help trafficked victims in Cambodia. I spent two years in the border regions of Vietnam. Don't tell me that buying your overpriced fucking bracelet will help those girls because it won't. It will only make you feel good, they probably will only see a portion of their dollar. Who they are is commodified into a fucking bracelet. Your understanding of what human trafficking really is confined to materialistic things. Trafficking is a byproduct of what is wrong with this world. Trafficking happens when children are not loved. When insecurities manifest themselves as hate. When goodness is trampled for what it is. When people don't become people. When compassion is missing. When empathy is made fun of. When showing love and caring and sympathy for someone is embarrassing. Fuck your bracelet. Feel good about yourself but then continue your closed mind. I held the bracelet and looked at the other items made by third world women in this world. I thought it silly that they would market this product as something that is made by a third world woman when almost everything we have was probably touched or put together by a third world woman. The chili you are eating. The clothes you buy. The food we eat. Everything. I know first hand how clothing is made - each piece goes through the hand of a woman. Each seam, each thread. I know.

---

I think moving from city to city to city helps me face my fears. It's a bit addicting you see, this moving and moving and moving. In a new place, no one knows me, and I know no one. You see, this is how I face my fears because I am a homebody. I know myself. I am a homebody and heavily rely on people to be. I'm also a scaredy cat when it comes to life. How unfortunate that is, how unfortunate it is to let fear be a factor. Is it unfortunate? Perhaps not,  you see, I realize that I am scared and that I have fears, while I have days where it eats at me, I have days where I reflect back and think to myself like "hell yeah, I overcame that shit" Those are my thoughts - to put into words how I feel is so difficult. Sometimes when I stare at things and zone out, I feel as though I