4/4
Where am I going
My mindless laying in the grass, trying to dream, leads me to stand up so quickly I get dizzy, then run around in circles thinking I'll get somewhere.
In other words, I have no balance between thinking and not thinking. When I am not thinking, it's like I am sleep walking, guided along an invisible current, unaware how my travels affect reality. Then I think again, at the moment I'm peering over a cliff, and break in a sweat and curse at my lack of consciousness. Of course, that is why I prefer to mostly stay in thinking mode, for fear of these cliffs.
I feel terrible and inspired and pointless.
Like all the beautiful phrases, sentences I could record don't create a whole. They are silent, and no one may ever try to follow along their illusive trails. The words may remind them of ones they've read and found nothing, and so have no curiosity and/or trust for them.
Apart from all I can create, I find little prospects worth devoting my time. It's probably my fault - I assumed most job positions aren't really looking for me after all, and so they don't choose me. I am an odd fit in the work place. My main hope is not to be trapped at teaching Latin - I adore the kids I teach, but I honestly don't care much about improving their education.
The real reason I am here is not to talk about jobs again though.
I, not metaphorically, just attempted an escape. I finished preparing some things for teaching, did a HIIT exercise video, took a shower, put on my lilac cami & white painter pants, packed my white sling bag with my journal, sketchbook, face mask, & wallet, and headed out the door. I told my mom, Lydia, and Nathan that I wanted to go for a drive, which is half-true. I cannot tell flat lies, I'm a dead giveaway.
While I settled my mind into subconsciously driving to Irvine, I listened to SS. It only took me less than 30 minutes, driving at about 70-80 mph the whole way due to lack of traffic. I'd gotten to the part where the main character finally spots Miu at the terminal in Greece, after waiting and feeling painfully hungry. I parked in the community park near his apartment, possibly the same spot I'd chosen 3 1/2 months prior.
Then I felt sick. I was terribly shaky and ashamed I had come this far. My mind had clicked on and was gasping at the reality of where I was. Not a few times I ducked a bit, nervous that he or his parents would walk past and recognize me. This was unlikely, but still, my fully awake and anxious thoughts kept me from even opening my car door.
Bending over, I tried to calm down and use my most coherent thoughts to write down what I'd say to him. I'd say:
I won't pretend everything is ok - so he understood I wasn't there to try to go back, w/o consequences. Then, ask if I could talk with him. If he agreed, I'd explain what I've been going through, lonely me. I'd have to explain why I didn't simply call. Although, I assumed or hoped that he'd understand I prefer to be there in person. Yet my mind took a turn - I would be imposing. Maybe it would be mean to suddenly appear? And so, I found again that nervous hopeless feeling that I'm not supposed to be here, mixed with no desire to leave. All of me wanted to just hold him, be held by him, yet it wouldn't be that simple. In a heartless film perhaps, with a character who's face you have amnesia about, but I am not that detached.
I opened google maps to find some place to use my time and assuage my desire to stay out. After a stop for gas nearby, I made my way to the PCH to drive along the coast. I passed through Huntington Beach as Miu explains the last night she saw Sumire. It was 4:15 when I got home, but I stayed in my car to keep listening to some of Sumire's personal writings found on a secret floppy disk. There'd be clues to her disappearance hopefully. She talked much about thinking and not thinking - writing vs. being swept up in love - which greatly inspired my intro to this entry. I imagine that those somewhat disorganized ideas are similar to what Murakami's journal is like.
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