--> Act natural

( Saturday, May. 30, 2009 9:08 pm )

>Tapering off

So, I've decided that I want to start keeping a regular journal again, although probably on paper and not here (?) I've kind of lost the thread of the tone I used to take here anyway, but I remain somewhat obsessed with diaries and journals anyway, and I think it's an important step towards writing again if I do it in the manner that I used to, which is like play or like emotional support. I worry that I'll ruminate too much, like an adolescent, but I do that anyway, mentally, whether I write it down or not. I try to take a long walk daily, and generally use that time to worry endlessly about myself, which makes me walk faster.

Um, yesterday was super humid. I walked to the library for Diary of a Nobody, which I don't really get, and helped a blind lady across JFK Blvd.

Today we got vegetables at the farmer's market, and I like the challenge of thinking what to make and looking for recipes. I also told Davey my latest idea for our wedding, which is that we get up on a Saturday morning, buy flowers at the farmer's market from the Amish, get married in the park, eat boxed lunches from a nearby restaurant, and get drunk in the park. And then I think we should also make ice cream in the park, the homemade kind where you roll a can around for 20 minutes---I've never tried that yet though.

I'm pretty happy daily, but my all-encompassing worry is how I can never feel decisive on what to do next. I don't know exactly what I'm doing wrong, except that I don't have that concentration and hard-working thing going at all. And then again, in a greater sense, I can't feel that what job you have even matters. I have this weird pull towards wanting loneliness and isolation, I think so I could do good writing or artistic work? But having met Davey, I don't think I could ever go back voluntarily to the loneliness lifestyle. Yet I don't think I belong among people.

This is why I should bring back the paper journal--this isn't funny. I can't even read all my own childhood journals for this reason--they all seem so weak-willed and complainy. Nothing ever changes with me really.

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