As I went from wifi to 4g to low batt, phone to tablet to phone, the wall of text I’ve been typing all day disappeared. Shrug. At 9.47pm, typing a fresh note to you.
Life sucks. I get angry 100 times a day. And, I’m surprised, I am happy.
First of all, there is Covid, a filter through which we make every decision from now on. And there are numerous people who makes it difficult to do so.
A few weeks ago, I began to pause social media and news. Somehow the art making paused as well. To fill time, I cooked 3 complex meals a day plus snacks. I read until my brain pounds against my scalp. And that stopped too.
Inconsiderate people wakes me from my sleep daily, then I play soft music and go back to sleep again. When I’d rested enough, I’d wake again.
I sit at the balcony eating homemade toast, while watching a familiar but unknown beetle-bug plunge into the coffee grounds in my potted plant. I then read, or write, or sit and do nothing.
I did not feel bored or restless like 3 months ago. I didn’t feel the need to be productive or useful or the person I imagine I have to be, in order to be what-was-it-in-my-head?
This is dear Ramano. I aspire to be more like him everyday.
Might read
Have not read this. I stumbled upon The courage to be happy. The title alone got me thinking—do we already have the conditions to be happy, but are too timid to claim it. Is the courage summoned in an instant or acquired over time as in strength training?
Read
The encounters between the author and the owls make me think about how to be human. Here is a quote: “Where you live is not nearly as important as where you are alive.”
It’s now 10.26pm. My cursor is pulsing with nothing else to fill the line.
I am really happy knowing you are somewhere on the other side of the world and that this letter connects me to you. marn
Thank you. Please click the heart if you like this. I’d appreciate your help in sharing my work. And why not see if you’d like to adopt a beakie to keep me going.