Late Night Crazy
I've been drinking, and smoking.
It has been a really long time since I last posted and so very much has changed.
I'm dating someone I really like, and sleeping with many people I like. I took a leave of absence from grad. school because it was actually killing me. If you told me this was what my life was going to be like when I moved to New York, I would never have believed you Journal. I am someone I would have hardly recognized a year ago and someone I like better. 30 suits me.
I'm listening to loud pop music in my Brooklyn apartment and doing sporadic cleaning. I have a mid-day date tomorrow with a cute Asian man in the park. I haven't written or read anything in a month. I suspect this will change very soon.
Maybe it's just the booze talking, but I often have this sense that what I am is driven by something outside of me. I realized this week that the reason I've kept writing until my fingers and mind were bloody wasn't because I had to, it was because I felt like I had to. I know in my mind beyond the shadow of a doubt that I'm better, smarter, and more aware than half the yahoos out there getting published. I've been doing this because it is what I'm meant to do.
That's enough self appreciation for now. I'll try not to be a stranger Journal. No promises, my latest dealings have been less than the usual "G" rating.
It has been a really long time since I last posted and so very much has changed.
I'm dating someone I really like, and sleeping with many people I like. I took a leave of absence from grad. school because it was actually killing me. If you told me this was what my life was going to be like when I moved to New York, I would never have believed you Journal. I am someone I would have hardly recognized a year ago and someone I like better. 30 suits me.
I'm listening to loud pop music in my Brooklyn apartment and doing sporadic cleaning. I have a mid-day date tomorrow with a cute Asian man in the park. I haven't written or read anything in a month. I suspect this will change very soon.
Maybe it's just the booze talking, but I often have this sense that what I am is driven by something outside of me. I realized this week that the reason I've kept writing until my fingers and mind were bloody wasn't because I had to, it was because I felt like I had to. I know in my mind beyond the shadow of a doubt that I'm better, smarter, and more aware than half the yahoos out there getting published. I've been doing this because it is what I'm meant to do.
That's enough self appreciation for now. I'll try not to be a stranger Journal. No promises, my latest dealings have been less than the usual "G" rating.