Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Yesterday ...

Today was one of those days.

Today, technically, was yesterday, because it is now very early morning, but I have not yet gone to sleep, so despite the hands on the clock, it is still today.

Some days, it's like all the cosmic energy in the world is being focused through a magnifying glass, harnessed to a single, burning point, and I am an ant on the sidewalk.

Today, the universe seems to be saying, you need to wake up.

Today I watched Bruce Springsteen on "Good Morning, America," live from Asbury Park, New Jersey. Springsteen is my generation's Dylan. Sometimes, when I watch him, I don't see a man. I see a legend. And I wonder if he knew, growing up, struggling, that his life would lead him on the journey he's taken. Is taking. During a song, a camera revealed the view from the stage. I love the view from a stage.

Today I learned that a friend of mine won a Edward R. Murrow Award. I am thrilled for her. I sent a card to tell her so. "I should be doing more," I wrote to another friend. "Your existence is enough," she wrote back. "That's nice of you to say, but I have a big ol' brain. I should be doing more with it," I said. And she said, "Quit shoulding all over yourself."

Today I looked out my front door and the view was unfamiliar. It is familiar because I've seen it many times, but it is unfamiliar because this, suddenly, does not feel like my home. Like I've been living in the wrong place for six years. Like I've been living in someone else's house, which, really, is true. Not because there were previous owners, but because the previous owners were relations.

Today I thought about writing to Dave yesteday and saying, "I feel another life shift coming on, gotta make some changes." I'm not sure where they come from, these feelings. Orbits, inertia, dissatisfaction. But they build and build and build, these feelings, and they kick me in the ass.

Time is literally slipping away, and I can't seem to grasp it. It's as though it's Sunday night, and I blink, and it's Friday again. Albert Finney in "Looker."

Ennui, but not a plea for pity. Just thoughts as they come to me. Writing is my therapy.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Ethan said...

"Quit shoulding all over yourself."

Good one!

As we have discussed "offline" to some extent, there must be something in the drinking water that is driving us (plural) to these thoughts. I don't have a sense of displacement as such, but I can feel changes coming on.

I am loathe to dispense advice as that suggests I can read your mind. I'll fall back on the Randy Jackson method: Work it out, yo!

8:53 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

From reading your blog, you spend a lot of time dwelling in the past and talking about things you WANT to do. Stop TALKING and start DOING. You'll shake your ennui soon enough if you shake up your life. It's all about taking risks. Everybody's gotta take a few. And the more you do, and if you fail a few times, the more you realize that few things in life are irreversible. Life is way too short to sit around regretting opportunities not taken.

4:31 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Yawn, read this before. *smacks lips*

Let me know when you FINALLY do something.

Interesting thought just occured to me. I sure could use a cookie.

5:31 PM  

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