I woke up at 5 this morning, and went out for a walk at 5.30. The world is so mysterious at first light. I got home totally exhausted, though, as if I’d walked for a whole day instead of an hour and a half. I’ve felt weird all day. Isolated. My head too full of thoughts which are not entertaining.
To put it mildly. Too much of my brain processes are taken up with my history. I’m sick of it. When any memories come up, they’re always tainted with the underlying discomfort of unresolved stuff that I’ve always carried on my back.
Times like these I understand why people want to take prescription drugs or drink themselves into oblivion.
Well, the day is nearly over. Maybe I’ve just got flu or something. I hate getting sick.
You guessed it, it scares me.
The ocean looks like wrinkled silk, deep blue. The mountains are hazy, ochre-tinted. I don’t want the day to be over, but I shan’t mourn its passing too much.
I want somebody to love. I want to be part of a community that makes sense to me.