baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 35 years, 35 floors How odd the minutia that fills in your mind as you occupy a seat 35 floors above Los Angeles-floating above in a perpetual rotation-overlooking progress. The spaces I occupy-my 35 years of experience attached to me like a tattered coattail-and the white, blank space of the future: these things tease me. They surround me and fill me with dread and wonder all at once. Talk about dichotomy. A sampling of the minutia: This is a perfect moment. Do I want to be here? I love this person next to me. Is this the remainder of my life? I'm only 35. Dear Lord, I'm 35. This is too indulgent. We don't do this enough. And so on and on and on. I once had what I thought to be an epiphany - that the source for these mental and emotional blocks to the moment originate solely from within. If my mind refuses to take in the setting of the second, then it's because of me and not because of job, mom, life partner, music, house, mom and whatever else excuse I can imagine. Not enough of an epiphany to conquer said riddle unfortunately. I worry about the future. I worry about the past. I neglect the present. I will get over this. ---------------------------- I'm deeply in love with "Spirited Away." What a wondrous film-filled with enough metaphors, questions, answers and riddles to keep me high for days after I leave its luscious colors and detailed renderings. Maybe I'm nurturing a deep seated need for escapism. Whatever the reason, Miyasaki's work is the vessel and I'm long overdue for a sail. _________________ I now realize that the shards of my life are there because I own them-they're mine-to carry on my shoulders until my body betrays me and shuts off my heart. I spoke of baggage as those trivial injuries to the soul, body and heart that seem so threatening. Everyday, I tried to release them and set them free as if they were hitchiking passengers. But this will never happen. These are all pieces of me. And they're here for the duration. _________________ Who are you? And why are you reading this? Better yet, why do we expose these thoughts down in a forum for strangers, and find it so hard to discuss similar subjects with those we see everyday. This behavior makes little sense. _________________ I'm not single. But sometimes - rarely - I wish I was. This emotion does not fit with the person I think I am. 9:27 a.m. - 2003-11-15 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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