Well that was depressing

I'm back home now. I'm no longer perched above Queens Boulevard in my old apartment, gazing down upon on the (assuredly literal) bleak chaos below. 

I sometimes enter a state as if I were a small black cat crouched atop a refrigerator, observing the goings on in someone's kitchen below me. That was me when I was writing the last post. 

Now, I'm just a small black cat ... sitting at a table, typing on a computer. In a room, in a house, with nobody else in it. The greenery outside the glass doors is a more cheering and peaceful sight, a more optimistic picture of "the real world out there", than the intersection at Union Turnpike. And...yet.

I wasn't really expecting this blog to become a diary. But I'm not using it for anything else, so why not? And perhaps it will help me see clearer the ways I change, with that extra kick of awareness that others can see it as well. (Or maybe I'll delete this later, oh dear.)

I read something once about how the lead in "Spirited Away" gained spiritual sight by facing her fears. And I thought, "oh hey, I guess I could think of this as facing my fear of being alone. That feels a little better than just being alone."

But, that's fake too. I'm just existing without a clan, in a world without grand purpose or meaning, with all the antinutrients evolution-wise both of those states entail. And I chose them both. Why? I can't even be sure. 

I am trying to learn how to be this whatever-I-am, successfully. I want to discover an angle to life by which I might start traveling a sustainable avenue of growth, through a force of creative joy alone, unsupported by the instinct-drive for those other things. Yet this is difficult. I'm genuinely unsure if it's possible for me to do. Some are strong enough to relish the benefits of long, deep fasts; others are simply too weak, victims of their constitution no matter their good intentions. I fear I count as the latter.

I'm not doing great at it so far. But I haven't had a lot of practice yet. In other words, I think this is something I must feel.

I removed this post because I felt like it had missed the point, that it failed to articulate that which urged its writing in the first place. Also, it seemed to have relatively little content. 

But perhaps I should be more comfortable with open-endedness, with putting down faltering words where they can be seen. Let's see if it sticks this time.