I spent all weekend writing.
And my writing became darker and darker. Yet I feel as if I’m not even a pebble that ripples through a lake that finds a tributary that finds a river that finds an estuary that works its way into the ocean–or something like that. My waterway geography is a bit rusty and I’m from Long Island. No excuses.
I have been staying away from TVs. Studies done after 9/11 showed that people who watched the most were the most depressed. It’s just common sense I guess. But there wasn’t the Huffpo then, and despite all the reasons I have never liked Arianna I find myself drawn to her paper as its coverage is the most dramatic and I think “no Pia, stop!!!.”
I miss home now. Home being New York where I understand the people and they claim to understand me. It’s not that I don’t like it here. This is my home now. But my closest friends here won’t be back for another two and a half weeks.
I wish I were a better person. One who could roll with all the punches and not feel so much. But I do. And then there’s the matter of the rapidly disappearing money. Which is insignificant but it would have been safer under my mattress. Long story for some other time. Maybe.
So I really have to focus on whether the world is falling apart or not. Because maybe the world will come to an end in 2012, or I have heard the coasts will fall into the sea in October and now anything horrible seems possible no matter how crackpot the theory, and then I wouldn’t have to worry.
But I like to think I have focused on living a healthy good life so it could be a long and good one. My own personal screw you to malevolent forces. But it’s so hard.
I just have to remind myself I’m not even a pebble.