In a nutshell

On Friday: Played Scrabble, gave up on game half-way through because my mind was wandering.

Saturday: Went to the beach. Went boogie boarding and got a killer tan. Hung out with Elsa at night, almost got into a fight with big amazonian woman.

Sunday: Relaxed, played games and ate tons of junk food.

Void

I have chosen once again to indulge in solitude for a while. I have chosen to reflect upon my life, and delve into the literary work of others who have also experienced existential despair. There are thoughts that once again plague my mind, of which I do not care to elucidate. In this past week I have finished reading The Myth of Sisyphus, as well as The Hour of the Star. I have also added some additional chapters to my book. The latter has provided me with great insight, yet some things remain nebulous. What I feel at the moment is a bit incomprehensible. Words are superfluous, what I feel is what matters most. Though I continue to chronicle the events and thoughts that run parallel to my existence in my journal, there is still a hunger that resides within me.

For what? I am not certain.

A world not yet born...

It was wonderful seeing Brynn and Elsa again. I can't believe that it has been over 10 years since we met. So many things have changed since then, but the love we have for one another remains strong. I am so proud of them both. They are intelligent, caring and beautiful. I think back to the days when we giggled during our statistics class, and spent our undergrad years going to rock concerts. We have shared triumphs, grief, and memories. I can feel time slipping away. As one goal is achieved, another goal take its place. Brynn is now Dr. Nodarse.


I am certain that the most important thing that we can ever achieve in this life is to experience a deep bond with other human beings. I consider myself very fortunate to have met such amazing people along the way to share my life with. How wonderful it is to love and be loved.

But I'm always dreaming, even when I'm awake

I had a rough morning but as soon as I was in Oxnard, my mood changed for the better. Being near the ocean always infuses my heart and soul with positive energy. I also finished reading The Stranger.

I must say, today was a good day!

Words, my opiates

I purchased three new books today: The Stranger by Camus, Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett, and a pocket size dictionary. I purchased all three of these gems for a dollar each at Morgan's school. I contemplated buying the pocket book version of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, but decided against it, since I already own one copy. Also on my list of purchases was a journal. The one I am currently writing in is almost full. I must admit, I was very happy with my purchases.

I started reading The Stranger and was not disappointed. When I told my friend that I was reading it he said, "heard it's a bit of a downer." I told him that sometimes we need to read books that express sadness. He said "why, is it cathartic?" I responded, "that is only secondary gain, it is necessary to know that there are others in the world that have traveled down the abyss. We gain understanding, and a voice." Once I was finished pontificating, we talked about trivial matters.

Another thing I was ruminating over was something someone said to me today. The person said that he didn't believe in "unconditional love." He said that love could erode due to a lack of nurturing. He illustrated his point by saying that a man he knew had a delinquent son, that for years was manipulative, abusive and had terrorized him. After the accumulation of intense emotional pain, the father decided that he was going to disown his son, that his son was now dead to him. He went on to say that the man was much happier after severing ties with his son. I wonder, can love erode with each wound that it is dealt? I suppose it can. If love is a reservoir, then it must be replenished daily. Otherwise we are left yearning for that which has been depleted.

Frivolity

I am currently indulging in the creative energy that has been moving through my entire body the last few days. I am experiencing a monsoon of thoughts and dreams, that rain and blow beloved chaos inside of my mind. Call it mania, or perhaps narcissism, in any case, I am writing, painting and using charcoal like a woman in a psychotic state. These times are when I feel the most comfortable in my skin. Oh how I wonder how others live without these beautiful outlets of expression.

On another note, Chris and I went running yesterday. We were running across the bridge near our place when we decided that it would be prudent to stop half-way over the freeway over pass. I thought it would be a good idea to see how many big rigs we could get to honk. My plan was a success, and was executed beautifully. There were so many big rigs that participated. I felt like a kid again :-)

The Voracious Reader

It is comforting to know that I am not alone in my bibliomania, and intense love of reading. It was by chance that I discovered the beautiful, insightful woman below. I am always inspired by women who have the courage to write with transparency, completely revealing their innermost thoughts. I continue to piece together the book that I have been working on for several years now. Being the perfectionist that I am, I still do not feel that I am ready to submit it for publishing. Everyday I continue to do what I love, reading and writing. Books have been a permanent fixture in my life. When people fail, I know that I can always lose myself within the labyrinths of my books. I can use my pen to express my darkest thoughts and vulnerabilities. Momentarily, pain subsides and I can gain perspective.





"I, who live sidewise, I’m to the left of whoever comes in. And in me the world trembles."
~Clarice Lispector

My Love,

What if instead of sweet nectar, I were to provide you with a melody that would resonate within your soul for eternity.

Would you still come rest on my petals?