Just now

I went outside for a fag and enjoyed the warm sunshine. I wasn't relaxed though. My brain is going overtime. There's an undercurrent of excitement on the musical front, combined with the expectation that I will not succeed. I am very wary of counting my chickens. That is my paradox. I have a more than usually intelligent brain, but it always tries to work against me. I remember the physical self-harming tendencies which are so prevalent among autistic people. I don't do that. I do it psychologically.