I struggle with constancy; I struggle with knowing that something will last, because I’m not used to the repetition of normal daily life. I am used to chaos, and unpredictability; to fighting or fleeing, not dealing and understanding. Those came much later, perhaps even too late. I am not used to coping and figuring out, but rather freaking out and escaping.

 When written out, I really do seem like a scared dog. And that is not to devalue the dog in any way, but rather to highlight my own deficiencies as a human. For, I view humankind as the most developed species on earth. And with our developments came many new features, - features that animals such as dogs don’t possess. And that is why I frown upon my own comparison, it is a sad, and unfortunate one.

 But my dealings with my troubles go as such – very animalistically, and without much sophistication. If something bothers me, it quite literally can change the course of my life (and the same for the opposite, if something enchants, or enamours me). This is a very dangerous prospect; the limitless potentials of any *new*thing, any novel thing, and how they harness such unwieldy powers. 

 I view each new life opportunity as my next big move, ‘this will be the thing that pushes me to the next level’. Every single new discovery fills my with profound jolts of excitement, ones that convince me that I have finally broken through. And each downer, each negative life occurrence will do the same but in reverse. Until the next good thing comes along, and does the reverse of that reversal. And so on, and so forth. And so on.

 The current room I sit in is as far as my brain can comprehend in terms of world happenings. I mean sure, there MAY be a world outside of here, but can I be sure? Not entirely. Yes, the continent of Africa exists, and yes, Tokyo is a city far away. But as of right now, this room exists, and only this room, for I cannot imagine how life could be if I were outside of it.

 So then, I leave the room.

 And suddenly, the room never existed. I don’t remember being there, unless perhaps you remind me. But for now, only these steps exist – the steps that I take to the next room.

 All the while, my mind is racing! Thoughts are filling in and out, I can hardly catch them. Did this person thin- and then why did I say tha- …. The chaos insulates me – it provides an inner comfort. I simulate it. The room I was in was too quiet. My brain, however, can be as loud as I let it.

 The voices can take over, they can even control, but mostly they scream, and then move on. I listen to them sometimes, but I can hear them always. 

 I suppose they are the constants, even if the thoughts they provide are not. Anyway,