Of Two Minds

Today is so weird. I feel so wiggly. But not with energy. I feel like I'm in FIGURE IT OUT boot camp. and i'm struggling struggling against it. I'm in a blanket burrito of change and growth and I HATE it HATE it! so I'm fighting against it but it's rolled so tight I can't get out! and if i would just relax it would be comfortable & nice . And then when I was ready I could unroll myself from my blanket burrito cocoon and then I could wear it like a cape! Or neatly fold it and put it away. And walk with my head held higher and my arms better huggers . But I don't know how/can't/DO NOT WANT TO STOP struggling struggling .

Thank you for attempting to articulate that which is difficult to articulate. I believe you very well may have.

I finally picked up one of your books. So many people I respect and adore think you're marvelous so I broke my once indefinite ban on male authors and picked up a book of short stories. Thus far, I'd enjoyed it. Interesting style and characters and all the other nice things people say about you. Today, I ran out to catch the last dregs of sunlight and read one. It was long and got cold while I was still pages from the end. Intrigued by the characters and wanting to get a sense of closure, I persisted. I may have lifted my ban too soon. I don't want to be too quick to anger, but is there anything at all enlightening in taking one of those cases of unacknowledged rape from the perspective of he who commits? Or perhaps, of course, it is not the responsibility of a writer to be enlightening. It is enough to just describe. Could more not have been done? You wrote it in a way that someone such as myself can see the underwritings of how women will often allow men to have se...

She walked into her apartment to find her roommate clad in her junior high P.E. shorts and a bikini top, hair slicked up with coloring mousse. Her roommate was hunched over a tray in the sunny window of what she knew to be dehydrating raw "bread." "What are you doing?" she inquired of her roommate. "I'm quitting smoking," was the response. -- She went outside, walking through the crowded streets. She had done up her freshly-dyed hair and face. She wore a skirt, exposing her scarred calves, and a shirt that was quite obviously lingerie. She repeatedly tapped her right pointer finger against her left thumb and glanced around her. She smelled of body odor and lavender. A friend ran into her and asked "Hey, what are you up to?" Not making eye contact, she replied, "I'm quitting smoking..." and followed her own gaze into space. -- She ventured into a second hand shop. First she looked to see if there were any dining room tables. ...

1) I am 6 hours into not smoking and pretty much everything is already on my shit list. Exhibit A: all i want is for my hair to be a brown without brassy tones. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? I will dye my hair blue black if i have to! Exhibit B: Reiny & me "i mean, i don't know if they're all gonna want to have game night if they're just flying in." "oh, they will" "...are you sure about that? what do you mean?" "NAA NAA NAA QUITTING SMOKING IS AWESOME!" 2) My body has been trying to detox for weeks now. Normally one's lungs only try to clean themselves after you've quit for a few days. For the past few weeks my body has been trying to expel any loose phlegm it possibly can. Quoth Joe: It is too full of gunk. I don't think that's actually what Joe said. 3) So far this year, I've quit twice almost a month each. And I want practice not smoking before I go to grad school. Because who knows what that will bring. 4)...

Most people start smoking in a similar fashion to how they start drinking. Some element of the social and/or it's easier to smoke than to deal with whatever's bothering you. I started more because of the latter. When I started smoking at college, only one other friend smoked and I managed to hide it from most of my friends and roommates for a full year. The summer I started smoking, I was fed up with over eating. So I made a deal with myself that if I wanted to over eat, I couldn't, but I could smoke a cigarette. In part, this was because it was exceedingly cost effective (a nicotine high is approx $0.50 whereas binging is typically $3-5 at a time, not to mention a good deal of self confidence). This was not quite brilliant but worked for awhile because I didn't want to start smoking. Instead, I would journal, but it didn't work forever. When school resumed, I figured out that smoking was the only thing that would lessen my otherwise staggering anxiety. Running,...