Better living through mood-altering chemicals...
Don't inhale cigar smoke.
I was in a down mood two hours ago.
I was feeling rather melancholy. Recalling that it has been a year since I moved here.
My headspace is, if not necessarily more stable, then at least more consolidated and grounded, than it was a year ago. Nothing left to who I am but who I am, and all I have to do is make of myself what I will. And all that.
I was remembering Gwynne's family. The feeling of belonging I had with them. Autumn is the season for wanting-to-belong. And while I'm not feeling particularly alienated from my family, I am so far from where I want to be that connecting to them is... out of the question at this point. I'm feeling somewhat alone but not ready to arrive yet.
I was writing out a letter that I thought I might want to send to her mom and stepdad, with whom I had become friendly while we were together. My thoughts were rather melancholy.
I was taking solace in what little of my heritage I actually have any connection to. Some CD's of Puerto Rican music my mom used to play when I was a kid. Thinking about the the tattoo I'll (eventually) get. I was hungry. I got dinner.
At a Caribbean Restaurant.
This is when things started to get better.
I like food. I like my heritage. I like trying new things.
Jonathan was happy.
Afterwards, bookstore. Cup of (decaf) coffee and a (Puerto Rican) cigar, and I'm out here on the deck at Books-a-Million.
Life isn't great, but at least I know it doesn't have to be bad.
I was in a down mood two hours ago.
I was feeling rather melancholy. Recalling that it has been a year since I moved here.
My headspace is, if not necessarily more stable, then at least more consolidated and grounded, than it was a year ago. Nothing left to who I am but who I am, and all I have to do is make of myself what I will. And all that.
I was remembering Gwynne's family. The feeling of belonging I had with them. Autumn is the season for wanting-to-belong. And while I'm not feeling particularly alienated from my family, I am so far from where I want to be that connecting to them is... out of the question at this point. I'm feeling somewhat alone but not ready to arrive yet.
I was writing out a letter that I thought I might want to send to her mom and stepdad, with whom I had become friendly while we were together. My thoughts were rather melancholy.
I was taking solace in what little of my heritage I actually have any connection to. Some CD's of Puerto Rican music my mom used to play when I was a kid. Thinking about the the tattoo I'll (eventually) get. I was hungry. I got dinner.
At a Caribbean Restaurant.
This is when things started to get better.
I like food. I like my heritage. I like trying new things.
Jonathan was happy.
Afterwards, bookstore. Cup of (decaf) coffee and a (Puerto Rican) cigar, and I'm out here on the deck at Books-a-Million.
Life isn't great, but at least I know it doesn't have to be bad.