Its another late night, and I cant sleep. Nothing much happened today, like the rest of the week, like last week, like the whole month. I dont know what I am doing- just letting time pass so I can get to the next thing. I have made some decisions, which I cant go back on now. Since they are things I have been mulling over, I feel good that now I am going one way or the other, and not trapped in limbo. However, I am still stuck waiting to make other decisions, step by step, so I can finally completely free myself from this stage in my life. I know it is a stage, and it will change; nothing is permanent. I just keep imagining happier times, times when I will feel exuberant again, inspired, enthusiastic about new possibilities. I dont feel that now, I just watch tv and sit on the couch. It doesnt seem like me; maybe it is a way to mourn. I feel like the caterpillar inside the coccoon, so ready to break free, struggling inside the shell, unsure of the new life, the outside world, yet it is my instinct to break out eventually. Nothing can stop me; if I dont break out, I will die here, and I am so eager to fly away. So I am gathering my belongings, throwing out needless things, putting to the side some items for immediate use and others for storage. This sorting process is easy for me, perhaps too easy. I have to be careful two months from now I will be searching for some misplaced item which in fact I threw out in a moment. Many items taking up space wont be necessary in the future so better to let them go and forget about it. I cant erase everything, and I shouldnt, although I am compelled to begin completely fresh. They say I am implusive, that they didnt see it coming, and yet for me, it has been brewing inside me like a seismic earthquake. And now, and now, now...now I have to just keep waiting for the right moment to make a clean break, all the while making little steps, little decisions, that push me closer and closer to the edge, to the point of no return. Its really not as poetic as it sounds.
