Journal Entry Type #131: Have I Finally Reached Any Peace?

As with most things in life, humans need a break too from something, anything, and maybe, everything? Besides being busy packing (sort of), working (definitely), resolving incidents and possibilities within my brain (every day since May 1st and when I reached adulthood), trying to find new opportunities to better myself (the biggest crux of my existence right now), this is why I haven’t been blogging. I keep thinking how I will get new followers, get new people to read my entries, and then I think, well blogging consistently would help (like every other day instead of every week). The times I’m surfing the Internet, browsing through Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon (help me if I get the new Apple TV remote), seeing what movies are playing TV, I could be sitting on my chair blogging. I could also be writing my second novel idea that will no longer be finished by the end of this year. Shit, I’ll be lucky if I get it written and published by next year although I’m hoping for this to happen. I mean the two people I want to read it aren’t going to be around forever and would like them to get a chance before they die. Morbid, I know but it’s the truth. Nothing lives forever. Nothing that is breathing and talking and making noises. Sure, we have our memories and all, getting cloudier as the minutes pass by (something I never thought would happen once I turned 40). I thought I’d remember everything as crystal clear as if I was in high school. Yeah, not the case. Maybe for some people but not me. It’s hard to explain. Sure, I remember certain names and events from over 30 years ago. I remember a name of a woman who married a neighbor of mine (since long divorced now from the woman). His first wife had the longest hair. She had the thickest hair I’ve seen on a Caucasian person. This begs the question why I’m talking about hair to begin with and maybe it’s because I always wanted thicker hair. Instead, I was born with crappy hair. It’s thicker than some but a lot thinner than others. When I braided my hair 20 years ago it was decent and now it seems I’ve lost half the size of that braid or ponytail. Tomorrow, I’m going to be officially moving and next year at the same time, I’ll probably be moving again. Living your life without setting down roots is nothing I ever thought I would do. I’m not a person who adheres to a nomadic lifestyle (could never do that). Yet, I’ve moved more times than I care to admit although living in six different states isn’t all that much. Here, I am with the possibility of moving back to LA next year due to a job prospect. I can’t tell you how difficult it sometimes to feel out of control of your path. I used to believe everyone had a pretty planned out path for her or himself. Now, it seems like a crapshoot. Of course, we have some control over our lives (that’s a given not assumption). I’m less certain about my future within the next year or next five years than I’ve ever been before. This isn’t a good feeling to have and so my internalized emotions were externalized into my actual physical journal. I wrote my heart out. From May first to now, I saw a show on LV strip, interviewed for a job, read a little bit, packed a few more boxes, and reconciled within myself nothing lasts forever, not even the thing you want the most or wish would end.

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