scattered
Slow summer Fridays. No volunteers, not even ones with mellifluent voices.
The courtyard outside of my office, currently filled with a profusion of crepe myrtle blooms and the constant low humming of cicadas.
Learning to (re)navigate my feelings instead of seeking distraction.
Being okay with the days when the emptiness feels bigger.
Realizing I’ve been so active on here the past few months because I’m finally sorting out my emotions and breaking the cycle of boxing them up, something that began when I started writing on here around ‘01.
Wondering what ever happened to the friends I made back in my early diaryland days, most of whom are long gone. I do keep up with a couple of old diaryland penpals on social media, like Karin (deleted years ago). My husband sometimes engages with thisisjohn in some music related FB groups, which is kind of funny and surreal – two worlds colliding and all that.
(John, if you ever come back here and read this, I’m sorry I was so damn awkward that weekend you came to visit me. But thank you for your friendship at a time when I really, really needed it. And also all of the mix cds.)
Unrelated: the destroyer has destroyed again. This is a topic for another day, and perhaps not fully mine to share.
Maybe my brain will be quieter this weekend.
8:48 p.m. - 2023-07-14