Well…at 3pm, i found out my nyc plans were postponed till tom.  So…i decided, I need to do something, so I took a bike ride down to the beach.  It’s funny, I live right off a rd. called “Long Beach Rd.” and it goes all the way down to Long Beach, but so often, I’m at home, wishing I lived near the beach. 

It’s about a 45min. bike ride, along pretty crowded streets.  That’s part of the reason why going to the beach isn’t exactly a convenience, but, it’s what has to be done…(oh man, a nice sunset out of my window, Long Island is showing its stuff today!)

Anyways…the ride awakened me, especially having some chill time at the beach.  It was almost as thrilling as leaving the country, I was in another world where worries drift.

Came home and watched some Seinfeld and the Daily Show.  The Seinfeld was a classic, the one where Kramer gets a line in a Woody Allen movie, “these pretzels are making me thirsty,” and everyone in the apartment goes around trying to give their best version of it.  George is the best, he gets all crazy and frantic, as he does.

It’s also the one where Jerry reserves a car, only to fine the car isn’t there.  “Taking a reservation is easy, anyone can do that, it’s actually holding the reservation that’s the hard part.” 

Then…the Daily Show.  First of all, how smart is Jon Stewart.  Apparently he’s memorized the entire liberal arts curriculum at Brown U.  The guest was a U. of Chicago economist who wrote a book (damn professors can write books on anything), this one was about the economics of society.  Does abortions correlate to crime?  Does age of parents affect the learning of a child?  Basically…it was an interesting academic book that really doesn’t pull all that much statistical weight, and you could tell Jon Stewart was skeptical but was still polite and only asked questions for the author to explain. 

I also ran into my old wrestling coach in town.  He’s probably the only person I’d hope to run into, and I usually drop by his house to say hi.  It’s pretty cool actually to have an adult friend, and to have a coach/teacher as a friend, especially from when I was in high school.  I think part of my f-up’ed ness in life is that I’ve had very few adults who I could talk to.  I think that would have been an interesting thing for the economist to come up w/.  How adult interaction affects development.  My coach is one of the few adults who I don’t see as an adult.  I tell him what I’ve been up to and the first thing he does is laugh, which for me is one of the most encouraging things because it gets me excited about what I do. 

Anyways…whether it was the bike ride, the beach, making plans, I don’t know what…but I’m feeling better.  My friend yesturday suggested that my slump had a lot to do w/ my social situation, and I partly agree w/ that.  But…even when I’m not in the best social environment, the physical environment can play a part.  I don’t think I ever really felt lonely when I was travelling, even when I would spend a day wandering aimlessly, becaue I somehow felt connected to the country, the town, the cafe I went into.  Today I definately felt connected to my bike and the beach. 

Basically…I need to feel connected to something, a place, person, project, book, etc.  Gonna stop writing now…  

Topic: no more ideas

I walked around my block today.  It’s a 15min. walk, I did the walk 3 times before I realized I had walked it 3 times.

After finally realizing…ok, i’m lost, it’s ok to be lost, I switched into practical mode.  I need a plan.  I need to put something into action.  I need to berry (sp?) this Dan…we need confidant Dan again, that’s step 1 at least.

So…I walked and walked and walked, and a plan came to my mind.  I wouldn’t let myself go into my house until I had sold the plan to myself, as a managable plan.  A plan I could get excited about, that would be practical, adventurous, leave doors open, create new doors, etc. etc.

So…this summer, I will be returning to my summer camp (not 100% official w/ camp yet, need to call back on wed., but let’s say 95%).  And…then i check my e-mail and get one from a friend from England (i e-mailed her in Dec., she just got back, jeez), but she’s going back, and was upset i wasn’t, and now i’m getting excited about kind of showing up and surprising a lot of people. 

So…I’m thinking i’ll do that, then I might be working for NYC Outward Bound in the fall.  The way i see it…i have things lined up till thanksgiving, my summer will be all about fun, get rejuvinated about kids and play, make a few bucks, meet some int’l people, then spend the fall in nyc, try to build some connections w/ writing, travel (i’m not even sure…maybe just make connections w/ interesting people in nyc).  Then, come Dec., when the winter hits, I’ll have had 6mos. to plan a proper trip to Australia, plus, i’ll have all summer to mees Aussies for advice.

I feel less like i’m floating now…temporarily at least.  I had a great talk w/ a friend last night, putting things in perspective in a way appropriate for me.  When friends give advice, they’re practical but also concerned about you as a person.  Family advice tends to err on the side of practical, if only because they don’t know all the sides of you that your friends see. 

Anyways…I need to go do some laundry, staying w/ a friend in NYC for the weekend, see if I’m not turning the corner for real, and getting back to my ol’ jolly self.

peace,

-dan

It’s going to be a while till life is good again.  It might take a certain job, a certain person, a certain place, a certain purpose.  I want to spend some time reflecting on this year, to see what can be learned.

First of all…I strayed from my goal.  I left Wash U. too early, I had some momentum, some allies.  I didn’t know what was practical at the time.  My goals were not unrealistic.  I just discoverd some other 24 year old who started a project that just seemed like a good idea.  It involves students on college campuses putting together print-on-demand books that reveal things that the avg. college guide doesn’t.  I’m pissed, because they accomplished their goal.  They made the right contacts, got out the mass e-mails, made their presence known.  I had a golden project…but wasn’t bold enough to get it to where it had to be.

I applied for a job this summer at a couple of NYC hostels.  I need to be around something foreign to make me feel alive again, but not necessarily go back to my camp.  Going to watch a movie called “he died w/ a falafel in his hands”
Went shooting w/ the dad today…good time.

Q:  Why do plants have dew on them?

A:  Because they perspire when it’s hot out.

Ahhhh…so, it’s passover, been eating lots and lots of matza.  And all kinds of fish.  Whitefish, chopped herring, chopped salmon, tuna.  Tonight we’re having matza briie (briie is actually a S. African word for bbq, i wonder if they’re related).  Breakfast I have matza farfel, which is basically broken pieces of matza, w/ sugar of course.  Can do pizza matza of course.  One time I had pizza lasagna.  So many possibilities.

2 things…first, I’m ready to join the real world again.  Trying to be conversational about things.  2…once I’ve done that, then I can start thinking about job stuff again, and even if I’m in a job I don’t love, as long as I’ve taken care of #1, just laughing and having a good time through life, then i’m in good shape. 

Topic: help wanted

OK…so i wake up this morning, and receive a message from an old friend…turned new good friend again.  Anyways…he was reading my blog, as he does, and offered me advice about my ideas.  Yesturday…I spoke w/ my sis, and she helped me realize that I need to slow down about all my ideas, since they’re all over the place and haven’t really gotten me anywhere. 

So…i’ve realized two things.  First…I need to seriously think about being in the right place, surrounded by the right people, and second, I realized that in NYC alone I have the bulk of my close family and friends.

So, the reason I’ve titled this “help wanted,” is because for the next few days, I’m going to begin an all out assault looking for something interesting to do in NYC this summer, and possibly beyond.  To see if I can’t find all, or most of what I want from life, and also stick around w/ those who have an interest in me, and who I have an interest in them.

For 1 year.  Maybe I’ll have dreams that I could be someone w/ a life resume of crazy travels, but maybe I’ll be someone w/ a life resume of great friends and experiences in NYC.  I don’t know…but, if I can make it there, I can make it anywhere, I think is the saying.  And…last time I was here, when I found that random funky art gallery, the woman there commented to me, “NYC is a country of its own.”

My sis read from a book, “Be What You Are” and gave me a Bryers-Miggs type personality test.  I wasn’t shocked by the results, but by how dead on they were.  Enjoys being creative, idealistic, but sometimes too idealistic or unrealistic about big projects.  Writing, education, helping people reach their potential were all job descriptions.  So…I’m not afraid that I’ve been heading in the wrong direction.

I think one year in NYC would be a foreign experience for me.  First of all…the idea of it makes me nervous, just like travelling.  Second…tons of new culture and people to meet.  Even if it’s the outdoors I’m looking for, I can definately find those things if I look. 

I think I have too many unresolved issues to necessarily go abroad also. 

So…let me look.  I have the next week to seach the web, to go to NYC to meet people.  If the idea of teaching English in a foreign country has ever sounded interesting (it’s never been my top choice, but the idea of it has always been a good one), then why not look for a job w/ an Outward Bound high school…the closest thing I’ve found to my type of school.

OK…if you can help w/ any of the following, please let me know:

1) interesting grad programs…where I can get paid to help w/ research.  Fellowships, or graduate assistanceships. 

2) writing opportunities…maybe a magazine I can get my foot into, someplace that has room for opinion articles.  I realize now I actually need to have my writing developed way beyond what it is, so it might be a menial job, but that might be ok too.

3) interesting teaching jobs…well, as I said, Expeditionary Learning Outward Bound and NYC OB are places I should be looking into.

4) other interesting jobs that make money…yes, at the end of the day, money matters.  I’m putting those idealistic notions aside, because, if I was in a foreign country, I’d be looking for any job I could find purely for financial reasons.  So…if I’m making NYC a “travel experience,” why not do the same?  Why not work a year on wall street, get rich…it’s just as arbitrary as picking grapes in France, right? 

Topic: What happened to me?

I just met up w/ a best friend of mine growing up.  His presence no longer brings out any emotion in me.  I sat in awkward silence most of the time at his house.  I had nothing to say about my life.  I was thoughtless.

When i sit here…i can think of things.  When my sister asks me “what’s wrong?” I’m speechless, then we begin talking about jobs for me, and I know the problem isn’t just finding the right job.  I start confusing her, and myself, and she grows frustrated. 

I’m 2 different people, and I hate it.  I can’t make petty talk w/ people, can’t share what I’ve been thinking, can’t describe the books I’ve been reading, the music I’ve been listening to.   

When topics turn to things that I should be interested in, now I just turn off.  I’ve drank a fair amount in my day, but am unable to join in w/ a discussion about drinking.  Even my mom knows more about baseball now than I do.  What the hell happened to me?

My life seems devoid of memory.  I can’t hold a conversation about Phish…but if I hear one of their cd’s go on, my heart smiles.  And that…what I did right there, saying ”my heart smiles,” what the hell is up w/ that?  Who am I?

I don’t know how things work.  I can get into politics here…but ask me what I think about politics, I’ll shrug and say, ”I dunno.”   

Ask me what I write on my xanga…what I wrote yesturday.  I have no fuckin’ clue sometimes, and I’m never able to talk about this world to anyone.  Not that I don’t want to…I just don’t know how.  I enjoy writing it, it probably makes interesting reading, but I can’t say it…can’t think it up in person.  What the hell happened to me?

I forget how i’ve grown to have friends…my state of mind is empty.  I have nothing to say about anything.  And I’m suffering because of all these things.

I wish/want to think/view the world differently.  I want to be able to share my experiences.  I don’t know how though.  I don’t know how to share any of this. 

I saw the movie Millions today with my mom.  I enjoyed it a lot, but that’s not much for conversation, is it?  There’s probably an article out there about my “condition,” I want to know what it is, and how it can be fixed.  Why I can write w/ confidence, w/out having to really think, but one-on-one, I just freeze up, and I can’t access my brain in the same way.  How did I get to be these 2 different people?

Topic: follow your bliss

Course is over!!! It was good, great at times, ok at times, but my course is over.  My labor has been exploited, a measely few hundred dollars to show for spending the last 5-days, 24hrs a day, taking high school kids backpacking, helping them feel more confidant about themselves…lighting sparks for sure, but…like myself, likely to run into life as usual at some point.

but…i got myself some time off.  Till May 10th!!!  That’s 2 weeks vacation, so I go home tomorrow, catch the 2nd seder, celebrate a little Jewish exodus from Egypt, eat some matza this week, make some life plans, then, May 5th, bus it to Virginia Beach to meet a good friend from college I haven’t seen in nearly 2 years now!!!

So…the big thing on my mind, is what to do come June.  The month of May…i’ll be finishing my bried and personally challenging tenure here at OB Baltimore/Philly, will do 3, essentially back-to-back-to-back courses in the city of Philly.  Should be a fun experience, something that may benefit me down the line, but…come June, w/ whatever little cash I have, a decision must be made.

1) go back to camp….make about 2G as a canoe instructor, cushy job, maybe meet a cute foreign Jewish chick, make a few int’l friends, be in a comfortable environment, but…possibly feel like I’m in a place that I’ve overstayed.

2) go abroad…w/ what little cash I have, by a plane ticket to another country, w/ hardly a plan.  Find a hostel, hopefully find work there.  Make enough money to begin the vagabond lifestyle, might feel really lost, might feel really alive.

3) spend summer in St. Louis…possible free place w/ my college roommate, find some work, be a normal person for 2mos.

4) find other OB work…see if anything more interesting and exotic is out there for the summer

This is an interesting and challenging time of life for me.  My goal and mission of a year ago is nearly completely abandoned.  I have neither the time, money, resources, or energy to puruse what I was pursuing this fall.  I’m not about to change ANYTHING…so, i’m not about to think and write about what it is I won’t be changing, w/ regards to education.

However…this might open up a new chapter for me.  A chapter that I may be less deliberate about writing, and more open to it writing itself for me.  A chapter where I shed my notions of idealism, my isolation from reality, and instead, embracing the world.  Begin to form fresh friendships.  Begin to really do outdoors things, not just running organized trips.  A chapter that is meaningful to me, but no longer focussed on some bigger MEANING.  I can help people by living in the woods for a period of time, or, I can help people by living in a hostel.  I can develop skills working w/ kids, or I can develop skills picking grapes.  My priorities in life are mixing rapidly.

I’ve discoverd that spending 2-days travelling w/ a stranger builds a friendship almost as strong as one of several years.  I’ve had strong friendships fade, and those 2-day ones last.  I feel comfort in spending time at home…and will always want to know more about my family, to feel closer to my family, but…I cannot live my life through theirs.  And…living close to someone does not necessarily ensure living closer to somebody.  I’ve grown closer to certain friends since college, and I spoke to my parentes more often when I was away at school. 

Life cannot always be planned by logic.

I’m feeling more open to the idea of starting a life abroad.  Like having the opportunity to experience childhood again.  New places, foods, history.  In America…I feel stupid for knowing so little about my own culture.  I am often paralyzed in conversation.  Abroad…it’s like I have a free pass for not knowing, and can comfortably ask questions again about the most basic things.

My decisions now will alter my future in a major way…but not to worry. 

I am coming to accept the limits of my potential…for now.  Or, at least to realize that I may come to experience and learn some things at the expense of others.  I may never enter the world of higher education again, I may never enter the world of book writing/promoting again, I may never enter the world of Outward Bound again.  I might be burrying what actually amounts to only 2 years of my life. 

It’s actually funny how dramatic this all feels.  It’s not like in college, where you can transfer, change majors, change identies, all on a whim.  But…i’ve also heard that your 20′s are the decade to do all the same things.  I’m feeling the social pressures, the idea that I’ve had my chance to “take time off,” to “play around.”  I’m feeling the social pressures to do something stable.  I’m feeling all that…and I’ve let it take it’s toll on me.

Well…my next trip, I hope is the trip that I break through all that bullshit.  That I feel comfortable doing whatever it is I want to do.  That I feel content, “following my bliss.” 

So…a week of family lies ahead, a week of waying pros/cons of various plans.  A week of making plans, setting goals.

-dan 

Topic: to the woods, then a break

So…today i finally said enough.  It’s like feeling sea-sick, fine one minute, then puking, then fine.  At some point, you just need to get to shore.  So…after this course (which i almost couldn’t muster starting this morning, but i have an amazing co-instructor who has re-energized me), i have requested some time off.  Maybe i’ll want to work my next course, maybe not.  Maybe i’ll be ready for the following course, maybe not.  But…i had to put it out there that something is off, and maybe a change of pace is needed.

I’m a bit concerned for myself…because i am low on cash flow, and don’t have a plan B.  It’s not like there’s another job i would rather be doing…and it’s not like i’m anti-work.  I’ll do things, it’s just finding a place that’s good for me.  And i’m torn by the pressure to not be poor, to not be “doing nothing” productive w/ my life, to not be going on 24 and not have a stable social life…but deep down I know that I can get away with just enough money, I can get away with “exploring life,” and I can get away with going on 24 and feeling the freedom to go several different routes in life.

What is my vision of my future???  It does not include a car, or an apartment, or anything else that will require a lot of money.  And I know that living in one place…or living a more normal lifestyle where i’m in a city, meeting people, making plans…does not guarantee a great group of friends, or exciting happenings.

Even as i’ve gotten side-tracked from my passion of education, and of learning even, I know that i can always return to that path.  Right now i’m craving organic education…waking up, making plans for the day, meeting strangers, exploring a new place, creating adventure.  Maybe sit on a balcony for the evening sipping on beers, listening to music…

Well…to bed for me now.  After this course…i’ll be free to think about where i’ll make money, and to think about the world again beyond this bubble i feel stuck in.

I have one friend in life who I emulate…he’s intelligent, well-traveled, deep-thinking, but an extrovert.  Practical, helpful, creative, goofy, loves to have fun in life, into the outdoors, into culture…..

I told him I might go back to camp, and here was his response:

topic: depression w/ the big D

if i could put my present mental state onto this screen…

that’s all it is, a mental state, but this is the lowest.  completely self-conscious, like i don’t fit into this world.

my biggest fear is people right now.  one of my best friend’s from when i was a camper and all through high school calls me, and i don’t answer the phone.  every conversation turns me into a mess of nothingness, unable to express anything.

i fear going home, because i know longer have anything to talk about. 

only watching a movie or reading a book gives me a moment of peace…and maybe i can write about it, but not talk about it, to anyone.

1,000,000 sad thoughts fill my mind about my limits as a person…so i forget completely about my past.

i’ve complained a lot about schools, about culture, i have nothing uplifting to say in this world.

i forgot how to smile, how to laugh, how to soak up everything, how to look on the bright side

yet…even in this darkest of voids, i realize i have substance.  i have words.  and…apparently these words, words that don’t even begin to address the paralyzing angst that has turned my mind against myself and introverted me apart from even myself, still have an effect. 

They move people to think, to feel, to have all of the emotions that I’ve lost.

and so maybe i am a writer…i should go to school to be a writer!!!

i’ve been told this before…be a journalist, be a travel writer, write grants…none of those things seemed fully fulfilling, and i didn’t want to be defined as a writer, i wanted to simply live, and write about it, or something,

…but like most things, i can’t make any sense of myself.  so why not work on being a writer?

i spoke to a life coach yesturday…couldn’t help me much, because coaching isn’t about giving you answers, but helping you come up w/ your own…and the one question i couldn’t even answer, was to visualize my future.

but…suddenly i can.  it involves staring at the blinking dash, writing creatively, sometimes confessionals, about all the topics that i can’t talk about, but…that come out so naturally from my fingers.  downloading and listening to music all the time, i can write about that too.  and going out for an afternoon stroll, can write about that. 

fuck…the money thing.  but, to be honest, i lied before when i said money was the issue, because the though of writing transcends the need for money.  i can write about and from poverty, tragedy even, as long as you don’t take my pen away…or chop off my 9 fingers since my left thumb is used for the space key and my right thumb is essentially useless except as a brace. (what finger do you all use for the space key…and is that an indicator of what hand you hold a pencil with?)

GOD!!!!

I just want to write, and think about things like that.  I feel beautiful.  Writing is what unites me and makes me whole, i’ve had it the whole time.  I feel like i can walk back into a room of people that i’m supposed to know, and act like i know them (i’ve shut off from people at work somewhat).  but…as always, cautious.

First, more on this depression.  It made me sick.  It was REAL.  Not exploring it further would be like getting mugged and not telling a soul.  I’ll never tell a soul I was depressed, because it’s in our nature (generalizations kill me…because i really am clueless about people), but it’s in our nature to “shine a turd,” as I recently heard someone put it.  For me to say work has been good, when it’s been the most miserable gut wrenching month…

but pain is temporary and does fade.  the symptoms are gone, but since it was a mental illness, it has the potential to crop up again at anytime. 

i’ve gotten my first true glimpse of how dark the mind can be. 

—intermission

I’M REALLY GONNA BE A WRITER AND I CAN KEEP DOING THIS!!!!!!  OK…I’LL COME BACK TO THIS IN A MINUTE!!!

—end

what was the depression?  how did it come about?  how did it feel?

you see (is you see the 2nd person?)  ok…you see, i do think all the time, we all think all the time, but my thinking is different.  say i’m in a car, i’m maybe thinking “god, i have nothing to talk about,” or i’m thinking, “god this song is good,” or i’m thinking “i can feel the wind.” 

This is why i’m not much of a talker sometimes.  I’m not thinking, “let’s take highway 70, then the 3rd exit, or maybe the 4th and then a left,” i’m thinking, “it’s in the direction, period.”  I’m not thinking, “Hey…here’s trivia about this or that song, place, memory,” I’m usually thinking things that I can’t talk about…and soon, this leads me to feel uncomfortable, which leads me to think, “oh god…this is so uncomfortable, i wish i could change this situation.”

for example…every thur. night my parents have pizza w/ another family.  When I go, I’m mute.  I have nothing to add about neighborhood talk, house talk, family talk.  and i tune out so that when asked something about me, i’m already self-conscious, and so i’ll be like, “yeah…south africa was cool,” or, “yeah, i wrote this book, you can have it,” instead of starting at the beginning and telling my whole story.

and it’s definately bad that i tune out…

i can be in a conversation, and while someone is talking, i might think about the very fact that we’re having a conversation.  it’s like i’m leaving my body even in the calmest of situations, and looking at it for what it is.

—intermission #2

OH YEAH…I’M GONNA BE A WRITER!!!

—end

I want to formally take back 99% of my cultural criticisms.  Perhaps if I had studied writing, had been thinking about getting a job in writing, had sought out other writers, all would be well.  Two of my favorite classes in college were argumentation writing and poetry writing, the other was W. African Dance (another form of expression).

and I enjoy analyzing things.  That’s what I loved about mock trial, my legal internship in college, and the Supreme Ct. class I took.  I don’t want to be a lawyer anymore, but I loved analyzing cases.

I enjoy crafting ideas on paper, that aren’t as impactful in discussion.  Any relationship I’ve had in college, I found myself frequently stepping on my tounge, but i’ve had know problem expressing myself to them in letters.

and…i actually wrote a poem when i was in Cape Town expressing the complete bliss i was feeling, the feeling of being whole.  and part of that wholeness came from travelling, but i could probably be unhappy abroad.  part came from my outward bound experiences, but right now i’m at outward bound and am unhappy.  i wasn’t near friends or family, but i felt so happy and whole.  and i wrote it in that poem.  i’m happy when i write.

and for nearly two months, what was i doing?  duh…fuckin’ writing.

10 pages, 20, 67, 98…

I could have written forever…

…and as long as i’m alive, i’ll be writing.

what an a-ha moment, one that can only be expressed in writing.

“hi mom,”

“hi dan”

“so…i’m thinking of becoming a writer,”

“great.”

OR

“hi sis,”

“hi dan”

“so…i’m thinking of becoming a writer,”

“are you ever going to settle on anything.  first law, then education, now writing!”

Point being…i can’t expect to express my epiphany in any other way but writing, because, it’s a writer i’m meant to be.

As a writer…any lack of thinking is still a thought.  How zen-like!  But…out of nothing, comes words.  I can write about nothing.  How Seinfeld-like!  OK…stop it, that’s annoying. 

Now…back to depression.  Experiences to write about.

-lying in bed.  asking myself questions about memory.
-being angry with the world…so damn lonely, where are these lyric-writers i listen to? where is this Amelie i just saw on tv? 

I guess it’s good that my memory doesn’t work normally.  All i can remember really is “for several weeks i felt depressed about life,” but all the gory details are forgotten.  it might have been interesting to capture more of the mind spinning, and as it comes back (it’s too soon to call this one off), i’ll do the one thing I know i’m capable of doing.  I’ll write about it.

Another way to look at writing, is as collecting.  Collecting ideas, thoughts, memories.  Saving things.  Holding onto things.  Everyday i’m coming across new songs, articles, experiences.  My brain wasn’t designed well to maintain them all.  That’s why we make lists.

Writing also gives you that out of body experience.  I can re-read this, and get a better grip on who I am because I have a neutral perspective, like everyone else reading this.  I can also capture all these images around me, on the desk alone I can see the words Office Depot, Southwest, Kodak, Capital One, Phillips, Dell, Bic.

Oh…and last night i went out for a few drinks, met an older guy from the town next to mind on Long Island, he overheard me ask the bartender for their cheapest beer, since my first turned out to be a $7.86 Belgian beer 8% alcohol, so this guy pays for my next round.  Got pretty happy last night…woke up this morning at 6:30, unsure if I just took a nap and it was still evening.  To my side were the following:

1 box pretzels
1 box Mrs. Fields chocolate chip cookies
1 container generic CVS pringles, bbq
1 bag, large, of utz potato chips, crab flavor (that’s maryland for ya).

apparently, i binged through half of that.

2 questions for me:

1) do you necessarily need to / are you truly going to seek out a job where you get paid to write…uh-oh this dread of uncertainty is creeping into my stomach, or maybe it’s just from all that damn food I ate.

2) how can you use this discovery to overcome feelings of doubt as a human being, to overcome social anxiety, to re-connect w/ the external world?

ok…food now, then more writing.  like falling in love for the first time. 

p.s. I just re-read this, and I want to say i wish the whole world was here when i had this epiphany.  What I need is the crowd at the finish line of a marathon, the audience at my high school concerts, but…right now i’m just gonna quietly smile to myself,

because I just became a writer…

like being given a shiny bike, i want to ride it everywhere, and not stop until dark.  like watching a butterfly flap its wings, then land, it’s antennae moving in the wind, then back up again…just watching it to see where it goes next.  or hearing the life story of the person sitting next to you on a plane, who has a sister who just got married in Chicago, but they both grew up in London, or something…i dunno, but seriously, all this writing is like the hot and heavy in a relationship, and i need a sandwhich if i’m gonna go back at it.