Solitary

I am thrown off by the solitariness of the apartment this evening. Usually I have one of my roommates, brother or sister, to keep me company, keep my mind from eating itself alive. But tonight it's just me, waiting for them to come home. What do I do? How do I spend my time? I ate, my stomach reaching its empty hunger at just the trained time. I feel broken and empty because of my own need to do the same thing every single day, eat the same things, be the same places. I feel as if my own future is being blocked by the very patterns I am getting into now. I feel trapped in them, and with the loneliness of tonight, I feel the sadness creeping in and biting at my insides. Normally I can drown it out with the rest of the noises of other people living, knowing my brother is at rehearsal, listening to my sister work in the next room, but now it's just me and my music.

For a long time I have felt this gnawing, this voice that is creepy and tells me it is all wrong, and I usually am able to shove it aside with routine. Just keep walking, just keep reading, just keep going, just keep chewing...and then I get to the end of myself and I get bored of the very things I so desperately desired to do, and I can't believe I'm still here. Living in the same apartment, doing the same things with the hula hoop and the driving, and the books and the salad. I don't want to do normal things with normal people. I don't want to go out in the evenings and enjoy a simple drink and dancing. Or do I? What purpose is there in either of the ways of deluding oneself? All I know for certain is what is inside me in my awareness, and my awareness is so blocked off half the time by this intense desire to just. keep. going.

I wish I could produce music and cry more easily and let go of my image better, let other people in, and experiment, travel and see more and feel and experience more. I wish I could give myself more fully to others, another human being in particular, let my family be my basis and my past and present, but move forward in my desires. I know it is a long process, one of deep inner healing, and that once I reach another destination I had in mind, I will only feel this feeling again. It will come back. Just like hunger or pain. Just like the world continues to turn.

I took in a lot of lettuce today. Eating and eating and chomping at the bits of beautifully white and green stalks. I ate 3 romaine hearts, 3 bags of mixed, 2 butter lettuce hearts, and 3 cucumbers. One from the farmer's market. I have a squash that she grew herself. Kathy. She is a sweet lady from the market who stops by to get her coffee. She has a dog, a lab/golden mix type of dog, and she has brown hair cut in rows framing her face. Some short, some long to the chin. She curls it, puts on lipstick, has big, brown sunglasses and small teeth. She wears lots of jewelry and always looks Tucson, summer put-together. She is a real sweetie, asking about my LA trip, even though that was a few weeks ago and I can't even recall it's existence in my forward-pressing brain.

My time at the market is peppered with laughter because of Chris. He makes the whole thing worthwhile and am I EVER glad he joined the stand next to me selling LuLu's chocolate, cacao powder, Maca, honey, and his own bars. I wish I could wrap him up in my pocket and place him in a better place so I could feel better. He's starting his own business and he has the sweetest disposition. I feel like he goes in with blinders on. He got honorable discharge from the army not too long ago, and he was so excited, he hadn't shown anyone yet. I was the very first. I was so privileged to be entrusted with the viewing it made me quite happy.

So right now I'm struggling with what to do next. Do I go for a walk and grab a movie? Do I stay here and read more? Do I take my book with me? Or do I listen to music? I am tired. I spent the day just exhausted. I know what it is. I haven't juiced in a few days and my digestion is tired. Wimpy as it is, it wants a break from having to work through all that lettuce, oil, sprouts, coffee, tea, snap peas, and whatever else I love to chew on like I'll never get another meal. It wasn't but a year ago that I didn't really feed myself and I think my mind still hasn't come to terms with the fact that I will listen to it if it lets me have some room again. I feel inextricably tied to the stores I frequent, and the only reason I haven't gone absolutely crazy is because there are 4 Trader Joe's around town, and I go to each one on different days. I still don't know why my dad hasn't called the police on me, with my spending habits I should be shot.

I have to stop my brain from resting on thoughts like that. I try to rationalize my own actions by comparing them to others', but it doesn't work very well and I am left feeling let down, a let down, and not even close to my maker. My headache is a little be disconcerting, but I am praying this is a necessary step before I make my next step. Seeing what it is I have been living in. The sadness of a state of being so utterly ungrounded in reality. Just trying to get by from meal to meal. It doesn't make much sense and I just want proof that it's all for a reason. But I know that will come in time, the more I learn to trust and seek HIM first, not my next meal or what I will wear.

I feel as if this time is coming to an end and I want so badly to move forward. I am ready, Lord. I am ready.