“I always feel as if I’m struggling to become someone else. As if I’m trying to find a new place, grab hold of a new life, a new personality. I suppose it’s part of growing up, yet it’s also an attempt to re-invent myself. By becoming a different me, I could free myself of everything. I seriously believed I could escape myself – as long as I made the effort. But I always hit a dead end. No matter where I go, I still end up me. What’s missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I’m still the same old incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I think that lack itself is as close as I’ll come to defining myself.” ~ Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun
I decided that I will move. Again. The home that I built for myself and for G, was a home that I built when I was still in love. It was a home that I furnished and filled with love back when I still had dreams of a future with my ex. Now that that dream is no more, I have new dreams, new goals and new desires. It is only fitting that I move onward and forward, and let go of everything that still ties me to the past, and to him. After all, I never really wanted to move there. I had a beautiful pre-war, rent-control apartment that I gave up in order to move in with him, in his hometown. Before a year had passed, he had managed to cheat on me and get the other woman pregnant. G and I were left alone in our new apartment, tucked away in a suburban borough, and far away from where we were accustomed. I felt like a cornered lamb, defenseless in a foreign cage, with nowhere comforting to run. He had baited us to leave our city life with promises of a loving suburban home, and once we were settled and finally felt at home, he took out the butcher knives, and hacked away at our dreams and trust, and we were left like cut up little pieces of anguish and heartbreak.
Because we are strong, we managed to make the best of our lives, and to triumph, despite it all. G has managed to become one of the top students in her class, and I have similarly advanced in my career. The hurt and ache only drove us to strive harder. But, it is time to let go of everything and start anew. If she and I were able to succeed in spite of all the negative forces surrounding us, how much more prosperous we could be if we left all that behind us.
“It would be much better if I could only stop thinking. Thoughts are the dullest things. Duller than flesh. They stretch out and there’s no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns … It goes, it goes … and there’s no end to it. It’s worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it. For example, this sort of painful rumination: I exist, I am the one who keeps it up. I.” ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea
I have about a dozen unfinished (and unpublished) entries on here. I sign in quite often, write a few paragraphs, but then inevitably become distracted, get called away, or otherwise become unavailable (mentally and physically) to complete my thoughts.
A few weeks ago I started to write about MJ, a friend with whom I was enamored but inexplicably never took an interest to me. I contacted him via text message after over a decade of no contact. He has not changed. He is still not interested in me.
Then I wrote another entry, also unfinished, about a book that I had borrowed at the library: A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles. I had almost finished reading it, but the book was due back at the library with no opportunity to extend the loan because another patron had already requested it. Apparently it is a popular book, and there is no mystery why. It is a great read that sweeps you up and back to a time of wealth and classic beauty. Would you believe that the book is in such high demand that I am on a waiting list to borrow it again? I might just buy the book as it is worthy of any book collection. Plus, I am quite anxious to find out how the story ends.
I also have an enormous amount of photos to upload. I finally sucked it up and bought a DSLR camera. Now that I have been tinkering around with it, the photos I take with my phone are no longer adequate. The difference in quality is just too apparent.
Plus, I was in Italy recently. Venice, no less. I took over a thousand photos from my one week holiday. I’ll be uploading those photos from my camera soon, and hopefully will get a chance to share them here.
“Apocalypse is a frame of mind.” [Nicodemus] said then. “A belief. A surrender to inevitability. It is a despair for the future. It is the death of hope.” ~ Jim Butcher, Death Masks
We only have one or two days left. How will you live out the last days of your life?
If the world does end in the next few days, it has been really nice knowing you all, and I will see you all on the other side.
In other news, I started a food diary. Well, it’s not really a diary so much as it is just an account of my daily food intake. I started yesterday, 1 June, as a sort of mid-year goal to keep track of my eating habits.
I can say that it really makes it less fun to eat when you hold yourself accountable and have to write down everything you consume.
Hopefully, this will help me with my fitness and weight goals.
“New Year – a new chapter, new verse, or just the same old story? Ultimately we write it. The choice is ours.” ~ Alex Morritt, Impromptu Scribe
Just a few weeks ago I was complaining that I had not traveled anywhere in almost two years. Now I have three trips planned for this year, with one already booked and confirmed.
Next month, G and I are going to Los Angeles for a few days to visit a cousin of mine who recently lost her husband. She is now a widowed mother of three young sons. We are flying out west to give our moral support. I also want to show G where I had spent some of my childhood. Although I am now very much of an East Coast girl, my roots are actually West Coast. Once upon a time, I was a California girl.
In the summer, the plan is for G to spend her break in the Philippines. She and I will fly there at the end of June. I will stay for about ten days, and she will come back in August with my mom. Before she returns, I plan to vacation child-free and by myself to Greece and maybe spend a few days in Italy to visit old friends.
Money and time are still tight, but sacrifices can be made and adjustments can be arranged. I have to do what I can to make things work.
I deserve this.