Been having my constant struggle with food.
I always feel hungry. Even - especially - after I eat. When my belly is full, it still wants more. I just realized that maybe it is more about soothing my stomach, physically. I am either empty or I'm full, always craving, always obsessed.
Maybe it is the sensuality of food, about the only sensuality I have this time of year. I do talk with and deeply enjoy and feeI emotion toward G., but it is still sitting here typing, not really the kind of it that I crave. I cannot go out to the park for a bike ride, cannot drive to Whirlpool Park to hear the rapids below. Maybe in a month I will. No dating or even going out at the moment; can't afford it, besides the weather.
Maybe I'll find the sensuality in writing, being creative.
~ ~ ~
Not sure what I have to offer the world, if I write. I feel I have so little true experience, with anything in life. But reading Mamet's essays Writing in Restaurants -- he talks about how drama is meant to give the audience a collective catharsis for the confusion that is the reality of our lives in this world.
Like Joyce said: "I return to forge the unconscious spirit of my race on the unformed smithy of my soul." I think that's how it goes.
How I am surviving a heart attack and quadruple bypass, and maybe even surviving life...
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
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