I ran away again for the weekend. Into the woods. I met a lovely woman on the train traveling north who cuddled Frankie the entire way and chatted with me about how she’s preparing for a dog or two.
And then, once again, I hid in the forest for a few days.
Entering my second summer, back in the states. I find myself shedding hideous memories that once were relevant. I am aware, and responsible, for the impact that my despair has taken on my body and spirit. I finally feel like crawling out of a hole I didn’t realize I was crouching in – for some time now.
My first mission outside of the hole is to be done with Novel and start writing my next script, or whatever may come. I feel like this particular project has sucked enough guts out of me and I am quite ready for something new.
On that note, I’m joining the pool downstairs this week. I fancy a swim. And it’s fun living in the same plaza as a fitness center. I need to shake my body and make my heart beat. I spend such a number of hours crouched over paper; dreaming, telling and picturing. I need to go to a land of straight bodies and toned stomachs. Exercise helps, even though I generally hate it.
I think I can spend the rest of summer shedding bothersome ideas. The best advice I’ve ever heard is “There’s always something lighter.”