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"Come here. No, I won't say please."

Sweeny1
Another spring-like morning here in Providence. The office window is open. The sun is bright. I can almost pretend I slept well and that every muscle in my body doesn't ache. I left the office window open until 10:21 p.m. last night.

Yesterday, no writing. And, at this point, nothing substantial has been written since I finished with "Apsinthion" back on February 25th. This has to change very, very soon. It doesn't matter whether or not I'm well. This broken sack of crap and bones can go hang. It also doesn't matter what asinine shit pushes in at the borders of my life. This not-writing absolutely has to stop. For a month, almost, I have been No One, for I am No One, if not a writer, and if I am not writing, I won't call myself a writer.* Then again, the thought of being simply and only No One...okay, let's not go there.

I spent much of yesterday just resting, recuperating (not entirely sure from just what), hydrating, and so forth. Trying to forget that Tuesday ever happened. The sun and the clean air helped. All there was to St. Patrick's Day was me hanging my Irish flag in the window of the front parlour. Maybe next year.

Today, I just want to go to the sea...but I'm going to Boston, instead.

* If anyone dares, today, to tell me this is a fallacious line of reasoning— that it's, for example, like questioning a lesbian's lust for the female form because she's not actually had sex for the last ten years —I will ban her, him, or it from every posting a comment here again. Yes, I love you, too.

Comments

( 19 comments — Have your say! )
chris_walsh
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:10 pm (UTC)
Today, I just want to go to the sea...but I'm going to Boston, instead.

One of these days, I hope you also get out on a boat. Seems the right kind of thing for you to do.
greygirlbeast
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:13 pm (UTC)


One of these days, I hope you also get out on a boat. Seems the right kind of thing for you to do.


It does, and I've always wanted to learn to sail. Sadly, ironically, I am given to seasickness.
chris_walsh
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:25 pm (UTC)
Then at least you dream about the sea.

Something related I wrote back as a high school freshman nearly, oh wow, 22 years ago:
After a Day at the Beach
November 1988
Many of my summer days have been spent at the beach, playing with the surf, flirting with the huge mass of water that licked and tugged at the sands. I’d swim out into the blue-green sea, then, lying on my back, I would become limp, letting myself drift at the whim of the surf. The waves would move me around carefully, never letting me go. I would always head home exhausted, sandy, hot, sunburned, maybe some jellyfish bits thrown in for good measure; however, I would feel winded in a strangely pleasant way. When we reached home or our hotel, I would take a bath or shower, get back into regular clothes, and set about various mundane tasks associated with everyday life. After several hours, I would get tired and head for my bedroom. There, lying in my bed, I would start to drift off, still worn out from my frolicking at the beach, when the ocean would return, just dropping in to say hi. I would once again feel the gentle waves pushing on my back, lifting me up, then slowly, cautiously, relinquishing support, letting me slowly drift downwards. The sea delighted in having one more chance to rock my tiny body that day, to roll and lull me to sleep in those waves. The sensation stays in my mind, and sometimes, even years after I’ve actually been to a beach, it returns to rock my now much larger body in my bed.
(I considered sharing the poem I wrote based on that, but I won't subject you to a high-schooler's poetry.)

I hope you feel similarly soothing things soon.
txtriffidranch
Mar. 18th, 2010 05:25 pm (UTC)
You sound like me. Worse, my best friend is an aviation nut, and he received his helicopter pilot's license some time back. He took me up on a flight around Dallas when I expressed interest in getting one myself, and that's when I learned that I get airsick on helicopters, too.
sovay
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:12 pm (UTC)
Today, I just want to go to the sea...but I'm going to Boston, instead.

Then I hope to see you soon. There is also sea here, although it takes a little finding from the city.
greygirlbeast
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:14 pm (UTC)

There is also sea here, although it takes a little finding from the city.

Oh, I mean the wild sea.
sovay
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:37 pm (UTC)
Oh, I mean the wild sea.

Yes. That cannot be found in a harbor.

This summer we're going to Maine.
greygirlbeast
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:39 pm (UTC)

This summer we're going to Maine.

I have been intending this. I have to see Penobscot Bay.
txtriffidranch
Mar. 18th, 2010 05:26 pm (UTC)
Very seriously, if you get the chance, go to the end of Cape Cod, especially with the weather being what it is. I remember mile after mile of gigantic dunes with ancient clamshells, and some of the wildest seas I've ever seen outside of the Oregon coast. I want to go back with an intensity you'd never believe, and if I have the time this July, I will.
humglum
Mar. 19th, 2010 05:51 am (UTC)
Very seriously, if you get the chance, go to the end of Cape Cod, especially with the weather being what it is.

We did make it out there, though after dark, last winter. It was amazing...
(Deleted comment)
greygirlbeast
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:23 pm (UTC)

But seeing wild whales in the wild ocean, about two hours off the coast from Salem, was worth it.

It would be, yes.
(Deleted comment)
greygirlbeast
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:36 pm (UTC)

The humpback whales looked like giant cucumbers.

That is an utterly splendid line.
cimeara
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:36 pm (UTC)
May I send whatever wishes I can that you become Some One again very soon? For your sake, for your happiness.
greygirlbeast
Mar. 18th, 2010 04:37 pm (UTC)

May I send whatever wishes I can that you become Some One again very soon?

Yes, you may do that. And thank you.
txtriffidranch
Mar. 18th, 2010 05:29 pm (UTC)
If anyone dares, today, to tell me this is a fallacious line of reasoning— that it's, for example, like questioning a lesbian's lust for the female form because she's not actually had sex for the last ten years —I will ban her, him, or it from every posting a comment here again. Yes, I love you, too.

Welcome to my world. "But-but-but you're still typing on a keyboard! That means you're still writing!" I actually did ban and permanently block two idiots who made precisely that inane comment, and I'll do it again if necessary.
thehousesparrow
Mar. 18th, 2010 05:43 pm (UTC)
I am currently sitting here, staring into space, listening to Bjork and figuring out what is missing from a painting I'm working on. My deadline to turn this in is two days away.

You are not alone! Don't feel bad.
gargirl
Mar. 18th, 2010 07:07 pm (UTC)
I am missing the sea very much lately. It seems I never get to see it since I became an adult. I spent so much time near it when I was a kid, I miss the salt air and the saw grass in the dunes. Of course I am stuck in the house so much lately I miss everything except the damn grocery store. :/

Life in the fast lane.

fusijui
Mar. 18th, 2010 10:00 pm (UTC)
like questioning a lesbian's lust for the female form because she's not actually had sex for the last ten years —

:) :) :) OK, I'm going to overcome my distaste for Amazon and my guilty feeling that it may contribute to delaying your return to Someoneness.
ardiril
Mar. 18th, 2010 11:16 pm (UTC)
I have been No One, for I am No One

My ex followed that path. It is not a fallacious line of reasoning at all. At least you still self-identify as No One; my ex crossed over that boundary and brought much and varied pain to many, even those outside her immediate sphere.
( 19 comments — Have your say! )