last glass...dusty buckets...parched e-lips...sponge...drip...drop

2004-04-19 - 3:54 p.m.: essential oil

dear diary,

i'm moving again tomorrow...only across town instead of across the country. for some reason that doesn't seem to matter. i still feel a little like a digression... taking off at weird points to follow paths that have little to do with the ones i'd taken before. i feel strange about a lot of things.

like the way the tabla player twitched his perfect left toe to the rhythm he was beating with his right hand.

Tabla. Ragini. music that made me want to cry. her voice was liquidly nasal...her upper throat an instrument of the rawest, most divine fashion. his fingers flew. he rocked on his heels. they closed their eyes so their ears could concentrate better. can't describe this adequately, so i'm going to stop.

i've been to mountains and beaches and rainforests in the past 7 months. i've driven up and down a rugged coastline alone. i swam into waves bigger than the space that i live in (stupid) and watched nothing happen from the top of a cliff. i've learned new questions to ask myself. i don't think i've found many answers. you'd think i'd have learned something. i don't think i have.

but i've met people who will change my life.

i don't know what to say. there's too much.

luscious is in korea and i don't know what will happen. i don't know what *is* happening. long distance. i thought that i could ride this thing easily and not be shaken off... but i'm not sure if i can. it's hard to know what it is that i'm trying to maintain faith in. the future doesn't seem like a real thing and the past seems so far away... so inaccessible. i would see other people but...but. i would see other people but i would need to be brave enough to face the possibility of turning a future with him into a "what if?" i would need to get over my fear of possibly looking back someday and sighing over what-might-have-been.

i don't know what's worse, fearing a future regret or regretting a past action.

i hate feeling afraid.

it makes me feel weak.

i want to feel something else.

i'm coaching 8-11 year olds in ultimate frisbee. they're wonderful. a 9-year-old girl (who has already mastered her forehand) asked me "is that your natural hair color?" i said "yes." she nodded and said "cool." (my hair is not cool... it's brown. i think she was trying to be nice in adult language. it made me smile.)

what else?

this city is gorgeous. you should come visit.

ummm.. okay. bye for now.