I feel terrible about not feeding the internet bits of my life in more manageable pieces.Instead I just randomly throw the mundane in with the sublime and all my outward travels out there with the inner domesticity.Ah well.I’m currently dried out and tired of sitting in my overly heated office,
stuffed between a mint green concrete block wall and a
baby blanket yellow dry wall, both colors fully pale and
institutional in a way normally reserved for hospital corridors.
And I *know* it’s nice outside.
I’m feeling pretty rotten today.
Old wounds, you know.
I have to wonder what it is that makes it okay for
people to abruptly change their relationships
with others without any real provocation and
especially without discussing it or even letting
the other person know.
There are things I am a magnet for:
and apparently this is one of them.
Am I that utterly worth-less to these humans?
Does the possibility of a reaction horrify them?
Or do they like that making someone feel like shit
is better than not being able to make someone feel
anything at all?
I’m tired this time, but haven’t stopped trying yet.
I don’t figure that withholding will make me feel
any better about myself.
I just hate feeling so rejected and confused.
On the happy side of life,
I got to go to into Manhattan over the weekend
which is always a blessing to me.
I saw “Young Frankenstein”.
It was only the second time I have ever gone to a Broadway
show alone. And I have to say, it is a surprisingly
enjoyable and luxurious thing to do!
And wow, driving in lower Manhattan is still quite the
adventure– you just never know when a road will
abruptly end. Sadly, I also enjoy driving in city traffic.
In general, I feel conflicted about everything, as usual.
I want to stay home and not leave–
just nest and watch movies and read and cook.
But I also need inspiration which means filling my days off with trips
to cities that have real bookstores and coffeeshops.
So I run around alot.
And feel a bizarre form of energized, mixed with
plain old exhaustion and homesickness.