old entry:
6/8When will I write my story? I'm young, but not too young to write a good story, I think (hope). Esse has lost its color to me; it's no longer as enigmatic and full of possibilities as before. I've tried writing some again, but it's discouraging and slow going. I'm like Sumire, pre-tornado, but lost in a dream. Does that mean I have no love? Maybe, what does flow from me are dream-like scenes, with no grounding or leads to anywhere else. It's frustrating and I'm beginning to believe I am no novel fiction writer.
2020 is my 1Q84 but I am not Tengo, or Aomame, or Eriko, or Ayumi. I'm a young adult girl who lives at home, reads Murakami, helps at middle school youth ministry, and soon will teach art over the internet. I stay at home most of the time due to the pandemic, stay healthy by doing online workout videos, and eat oatmeal twice a day. My voice echoes in my head as if there is another one, a narrator of my life. Every morning, I read a chapter of the bible and pray - giving praise first, then confession, then requests, then thanks. I forget plans easily, as I'd honestly rather not have any.
Outside of me is so much, I cannot express how little I know. If I see a path I like, I'll likely stick to it, unless overpowering curiosity takes me.
Now if I can just be curious enough to let myself find a story - in or outside.
kinda old:
6/18
It's been an unexpectedly good day. Noting it's been 6 months since my break up, I haven't been missing ex much lately. Only in occasional times of loneliness I imagine his presence, but not in a romantic way. It's more melancholic and haunting.
I haven't been able to sleep properly for the past 2 nights - partly due to job hunting, but I'm sure it's mainly because I practically asked Sean on a date. Though I didn't frame it as such. I tried to follow along the lines of him owing me, and figured I could also say we never ended up doing our road trip to San Jose. Originally, we planned to meet up on Wednesday night, but that afternoon he said he got called in for the closing shift. Honestly, I felt hurt and frustrated, since I assumed it was a sign of his indifference, and it triggered me to relive feelings of rejection. I found myself crying and feeling worse, since I'd already been feeling anxious-nauseous that day. In the midst of it, I decided to call Kris, and I'm super glad I did. She helped me realize how I'd already established unrealistic and confining expectations, and she related as well. My anxieties and memories are so entwined, it's hard for me to trust others and myself. But after speaking with her, and rescheduling with Sean, I brightened up.
The nausea stayed through the night and spread throughout my day, yet I can't complain too much. I was very worried about joining my mom's hiking plans, since I was concerned to be out long, but there simply wasn't enough car space in the end so I stayed home contentedly.
Dad needed help with adding shingles to the sides of the shed, so I worked with him for an hour or so, until heading out to meet Sean at Ding tea. He sent me the location to one in Cerritos, which turned out to not be the one he was at, but he drove over to me. After ordering our drinks, we talked in the front for a short time, then he suggested we go geocaching nearby.
We searched everywhere, but could only solve the first clue. It was named 'pork chop on toast', which I unscrambled to 'notch on park post'. We used google translate for a clue in Russian, giving us 'nail'. We found the notch and the nail under it, with what looked like a tiny drawing etched on the surface. We must have inspected the whole park. Yet it was nowhere - we even checked every lamppost. Meanwhile, I was just enjoying walking around on some ridiculous mission with him. He seemed more impatient and stubborn about finding it, but I didn't mind much. I felt calm and confident, and kind of boyish. I was wearing my guys' tee and jeans, too. I wonder if he sees me as a 'bro', or if he just likes saying that? I kind of like being called that though for some reason.
getting there:
6/21
The world has felt slightly different since Wednesday. I think I may have unknowingly crossed into a new one (not sure what portal I took - perhaps the Wendy's drive thru on Tuesday? Or maybe when I showered with my clothes on?) and my stomach as been acting as though everything has reversed its rotation. Like a washing machine suddenly changing directions.
I couldn't distinguish whether it was the same queasiness as days previous or just result of the beer I drank last night, but I am not adjusted.
The party yesterday was never dull. When I first arrived and settled in, my nerves were still on edge, but I enjoyed eating shrimp and talking with the leaders. Caleb said he'd gone to the beach that afternoon and I noticed him glance at Kris, who smiled, so I deduced she'd decided to go with him. I got into playing taboo, and other games. Even beer pong. Sean said he wasn't going to make it, which I think allowed me to focus on simply having fun and being present. I drank 2 beers and became quite hyper, running around and chatting. We all walked to a nearby bridge, and a ledge before it with a telescope and railing that reminded me of Titanic. Kris needed to use the restroom, so she ran back to her house and I followed behind. There was no one else around and it was about 12 am. As I sped down the tidy back street, I became convinced it was proof I'd entered another world. Anyone seeing me would think the scene odd - a barefoot girl booking it at midnight, yet not in any apparent distress or rush.
I told Kris I wish Sean was there, so she decided to call him, as his shift ended at 11:30pm, and tried to convince him to come over. Her and Caleb guilt tripped him for some time. To my surprise, he did stop by. And despite my wishing, I only temporarily felt excited and glad. We played beer pong, and rage cage, and he seemed to be guiding me through it. Then we strolled over to a nearby playground and I hit a wall inside me. I didn't know what to say and I felt suddenly very isolated. Besides Kris, they do not really know me, my intensity and overwhelming emotions, my subtle meaning in everything I do, my poetic frame of mind. I became discouraged by the seeming passiveness and lack of concern from Sean. I granted, he was likely tired, yet it still could be all in my head. I could be wrong about everything, and perhaps should start getting over him.
Now I'm tired. To sum up, I stayed at Kris' until 4:30 am to get sober, then watched 'A Walk to Remember' until 7am, crying myself sleepy, eating ice cream. I woke at 11am, thankfully with no hangover.
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