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mood |
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fucking HAPPY! |
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music |
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Everclear - Santa Monica |
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I wrote too late this morning, and had to throw on clothes and drag a brush through my rat's nest hair before jumping in the car. I'm glad it wasn't icy - I'd never have made it if I had to scrape with a credit card again. (The ice scraper is lost.) I didn't even have to wait in the lobby, and they didn't even ask for a co-payment. Just Hi, Yes, I'm stupid, I cut my hand washing a glass... *snip*snip*snip* and then I was home. The physician's assistant said it looked good but to expect bits to fall off. Gross.
You know what I like to do, even more than walking? I like to read and write. By myself. In my head. It's like scraping the guts out of a pumpkin - I'm left with a clean, pure gourd on which to carve the events of the day. I indulge, for me. A Chicken Soup for the Soul type thing, if you will. Profound platitudes on the best seller's list don't do it for me, but connecting with your writing, and connecting to myself through your writing, does it. And thusly, here I write and read, oftentimes without a chat client open. Too much chat makes for too little journaling, despite that I like to do both. Moderation is a good word for the New Year, I've decided. I'm not deleting my journal.
I wrote about Venus this morning. To my ignorant sky watching eyes, it seems like that's the "star" that's usually most visible, earliest in the dusk. I could very easily be wrong. G'head, correct me. I want to know. But in the car today, I was listening to the astronomy update on NPR. Tonight (provided it is clear!), at midnight, instead of floating in the sea and feeling dwarfed by Venus, I plan to look to the right of the moon and wonder at Jupiter (allegedly a "cream colored steady glow"), and also at Sirius (allegedly "fiercely twinkling"). If I'm lucky and the breeze blows the right direction, I may smell salt and composting sea-things in the process of making way for new life in a new year. The best smell in the world.
We can live beside the ocean
Leave the fire behind
Swim out past the breakers
And watch the world die
Life is getting trickier by the day. I'm swimming through a sea of people and doing my damnedest to be respectful about it, but it's really, really hard. I was told a day or two ago, that people have no purpose in life. I opened my mouth to disagree, but I had no substance with which to argue, so I shut it again. I think I've got something now, though. My purpose in life, is to live. That's the purpose for every living thing, isn't it: to survive, physically and emotionally, until you die?
And so I guess the point is that while I'm working really hard to respect people, I still have to live. I don't mean to cause hurt, but it is my purpose (and yours) to stay whole while I wait around for the end of my life. Maybe that's why I'm thinking so much about oceans and floating in the swells, and looking at the cycling sky. Something I'd tell myself when I had a particularly hellacious day in escrow-land was, This day will come to an end. And it always did.
Currents tug me around and rip tides suck me away while I float, but as long as I find the same consistent marks in the sky, and as long as I remember to swim steadily sideways, I can get back on my feet. And so can you.
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