I guess it's true. The more things change, the more things stay the same. I haven't written here since June, and as I reread my past posts, it's disturbing how little I've grown. It's only been 4 months, I suppose, but still, I should know better -- shouldn't I? Then again, nothing changes unless I change, and I really haven't. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

My whole problem - The Whole Problem - centers on control. I can't get enough of it. Certainty. Security. Gotta have it. Everything in my life is tailored to minimize risk and manage uncertainty. WHEN are you picking me up for dinner? WHERE are we going? WHAT should I wear so I don't look out of place?

WHY can't I just let go of all that? What the fuck does it matter, anyway?

Yeah, I'm angry. Angry at my inability to let go. Better anger than fear, or so they say.

I suppose it's like this: I have a tendency to keep saying "I'd like to start painting again." But I never buy any paint. Or take any classes. Or set up a studio. It's this idea that I have, this fantasy that I'm a painter. But maybe I suck. It's better not to paint then to paint and know you suck, right? Removes the uncertainty of will-I-suck-or-not. It's a foregone conclusion, based on the truth I tell myself that I must suck as a painter. Because if I didn't suck, I'd be doing it, right? Somebody would have dropped down out of the sky and said Hey, You Should Paint.

There is no somebody that drops out of the sky. There is no suckiness. There is no painting, unless I choose to make it so. There is no letting go, unless I choose to make it so. And really, I might suck at it. But there's only one way to know.