Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Writing is becoming a tyranny. Not just this, but the 'book' I'm writing. I'm tired of judging my emotions by how good a writer I am. Yes, a lot of it is trite. That doesn't make it less true. 'Trite', a word I learned in creative writing class in middle school. The worst condemnation. Enough. I just want to feel.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Then last night I had quite a different dream, a very Freudian one. He was 6 or 7, we had gone back home for good and I was concerned that he would forget English so I was going to get my father (a former Ambassador) to ask at the American embassy if they would accept him in their after-school program so he could go there maybe once a week. I was concerned that he would grow up not speaking English. There was also some other opportunity - a play(?) that I wanted him to try out for. The embassy's back yard abutted on our own (or what appeared to be my grandparents' village house yard). We could hear the kids playing. As I was formulating this plan there was some urgency to it, but at the same time I thought, well, what's the point, when he's dead now, but I still planned to go through with it.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Such a blessed relief. Especially on weekends when I'm at a loss as to what to do with myself.
I did my yoga, I cooked lunch, I did my writing (thank god for that), I'm having my drink (never enough, but I resist overindulging) and soon (not soon enough) I will be unconscious. Overall a success, I think, considering I have no hope for the future.'Life is how it is, not how it was.' - Bright Eyes