Kinda Lonely Kinda Nice

I wrote all day today. I don't know how I managed it, yet it doesn't feel like I've done that much. I had set out today to polish four short pieces. Mission accomplished. Only it took me a whole day. It's almost midnight now, I look back, and I don't know how the time had gone by so quickly. Tonight I made soup for dinner. The heat in the house made it difficult to work, so I went out for a walk just before dark. It was the first time I sauntered my neighbourhood by myself for the sake of sauntering. I passed by the senior home building at the northeastern corner of my village. Everything in the lobby, its shiny floor and reflexive surfaces looked clear, but there wasn't a soul. I'm writing about that now because that was the only bit of external stimulant I had today.

It's August already. Tomorrow I'll be busy. I need to make a syllabus for my writing class. So I'll teach writing, even before I know how to write, but there'll never come a time when I 'know' how to write. I might know now, but I don't know tomorrow. I might know for one hour, but not the next. But I still do it, isn't that amazing, what a strenuous activity, yet I'm keeping up, and I can't see myself quitting. Isn't that worthy of celebration?

How I need to sleep, should sleep, but I don't feel tired. I had wanted to get an iced coffee drink tonight, but elected to stay home, for all my books were here and my workstation set up.

There's something in my head today, right now, I'm trying to shake it out, like ketchup from a bottle...

I think I deserve to ramble here for just a bit. It's been a strenuous day. But as I say this, just now, my mind has gone blank, and I think of nothing to ramble about.

What do I really want now?

I want somebody to sit with me in a park, not just anybody. I want a chewy bowl of tapioca. I want to go to karaoke. I want my sanity back. I want a free day tomorrow. I want to sit at Second Cup and read Henry James. I want to see my friends. I want to say something stupid to make people laugh. I want them to like my stories. I want to sign up for writing classes. I want a teacher as thoughtful as me. I want to move to Vancouver. I want to loiter the night streets of Hongkong. I want to eat a light chocolate chip cookie. I want a balcony.

I'm kinda lonely tonight. Just kinda. But it's nice to be me. More and more I feel that and that feels kinda nice.