(no subject)
I'm not doing much of anything. My life seems as though it is on pause at the moment. There are plans. Oh my, are there plans, but these plans are not so urgent that I need to up heave my comfortability in my warmly lit Santa Monica apartment, toss out the video games and marijuana paraphernalia, and hit the books--hard. I just don't need that right now. I have discipline. I exercise regularly, I limit my intake of red meat, I seek out books that will prompt me to read; these are productive things. Am I rich? Do I have a laundry list of responses to the question, "What have you been up to?" No, I don't. In 10 years, if I look back at all, I will recall comfortability. I will recall a time when I did not need much, had enough of everything I wanted, and acknowledged the pleasantness of my non-aggressive comfortability. My future plans have been laid out and I have taken baby steps towards them. This is enough right now. I am sunken into a life of leisure and I need a little bit of time to come out of my fog.
Resolutions:
1) Stop writing about writing. Don't explain away your reasons for writing or not writing. Do it or don't, but stop talking about it.
2) Exercise daily. If nothing else, stretch.
Resolutions:
1) Stop writing about writing. Don't explain away your reasons for writing or not writing. Do it or don't, but stop talking about it.
2) Exercise daily. If nothing else, stretch.