May 06/2017

Dear A,

1.The one view on this blog today was from Poland, which made me laugh. I tried to take a screenshot but the laptop is not responding.

2.It seems in just twenty-six years I have cultivated enough anger to last the rest of my life. When I get my head out of the clouds and into, well, I guess it’s just another set of clouds, I just want to scream. Or maybe it’s more like no matter what there’s this constant screaming deep inside of me.

3. My friend Dana and I made an excellent salad today. Let’s see, it had lettuce, spinach, kale, tomatoes, cucumber, yellow bell peppers, hemp hearts, chia seeds, and some tangy soy-ranch type dressing. It was great. As we sat in her apartment eating, Peruvian flute playing from her boyfriends Mac, I realized how I never feel relaxed at home. The relief of when my mother goes for a walk is so immense, the feeling of being alone. I can hear the water running in her shower as we speak. I need a space of my own. It is so important. An actual home, cultivated to reflect your own desires.

4. I have never been at such odds with my desires. It was always so clear. Act, I just wanted to act. I would go to theatre school and finish and be an actor. I feel so stupid for thinking life would so simple. So easy. I am so afraid of becoming the kind of person I’ve always disdained: cynical, unwilling to take risks, to move forward, afraid. My mother. She’s not cynical, but apathetic to her own well being. Oblivious to her own well being. I have become cautious. Tentative. Who is this person? What am I becoming? A degree of caution is good, however. Just have to use it correctly. I love being distracted. I also love being focused. When I’m distracted I’m hyper focused. I guess by distracted I mean I love focusing on goals and dreams and being propelled by them, instead of being rooted to the practicalities of life. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with being in the clouds. I need a foot on earth, at least. How do I do this? I’m so fucking spoiled. All this introspection. What the hell.

5. I bought a copy of Oxygen, a women’s fitness magazine. This issue has Misty Copland on the cover, amazing woman. The body. Movement. Women need to be strong. We’ve been through too much.

6. I just want to scream. Oh, the value of screaming. To see someone scream. It’s an important act. We don’t scream enough. Screaming sends a message. A true, deep, scream. We can learn a lot from screaming. We can also hurt our vocal cords, which I don’t suggest. But a genuine scream. It’s freeing.

7. I’m so fucking lazy! But I’m also not. But I am. I don’t know, I am a terrible judge of self. The worst.

8. I love being obsessed. I love being obsessed with something. A person, a thing, an act. I love devotion and focus. Focus and distraction. Themes. Hmm.

9. How can I make value out of my life? Oh it’d be so easy to be religious. Just believe I’m doing it all for the Lord. Oh it’s tempting. The utter simplicity.

10. I had that with art. Now I’ve lost faith and I think it’s kind of bullshit. I’m so fickle. I don’t know why. Do I need to know why? Again, it’s a luxury to ask these questions. People seem to think writing is meaningful. Moving. Vital. Important. I feel nothing.

11. I miss acting. I miss theatre. Theatre had such obvious value to me. It still does, the theatre I dream of. Just do it. I am slowly doing it.

12. I’m spending tomorrow painting outside in Vancouver. It’s an event Opus is doing. Going with my high school drama teacher. I’m taking her to Cartems! Let life be. It’s so fucking easy to sound deep. Draw any three words together. Take camels home. Buy no glue. Visit your mother. Pee into air. I would love to make inspiration style posters and cards with nonsense on them. Oh great, another project, just what I need.

13. There’s something inside that just laughs at me. Everything I want and believe in. And I feel so small and weak. I feel so pathetic. I watched a lovely Japanese anime film the other night, called Your Name. It’s about two teenagers, one in Tokyo, one in a (fictional?) small town, who switch lives with each other in their sleep, a classic body-swap story, but with various other elements and twists. Beautifully done, and very funny too.

14. I quit Opus to try to replicate last summer. Work, boxing, writing. It’s all I did. It was a beautiful summer. Hmm…

15. Hi Jordan!

16. Hi to all the people I don’t know in real life! I hope you’re well, whoever, wherever you are.

17. OH! I went to Safeway before coming back home and they had these Apple Cinnamon pitas that I used to buy all the time in Toronto, but completely forgot about. I saw them and my heart froze. I ate them every morning for months, probably over a year. I think I stopped buying them when I moved to Etobicoke. During such a strange and painful time in my life. It was like seeing an old prison mate or something. Or the exact curtains from your childhood bedroom that you hadn’t thought about in decades but brought you back exactly to those moments of laying on your belly playing with toy cars. I brought a package to my nose and sniffed. I wanted to cry. The cranberry orange ones were beside them. I’d bought those a few times as well, but only if the apple cinnamon ones were out. That time. I was so alone. So utterly alone. Those pitas knew it. I wish… I wish I could change the past.

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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