where do you go to escape?
Man it is sometimes very hard to find sane places to rest your head. Inside books seems to somehow safer than many places we get exposed to, but even then I hate having to go pick through them sometimes. This is an absurd thing to say I realize and makes me also realize I need to get down to the library. On the tv front I have found myself watching things like the Biggest Loser, because heroes clearly aren’t being found in the normal places anymore. It’s either that or deep fantasy shows like say, Locke and Key, because they bring a sense of magic we clearly get to forget about as adults. It’s just base level escapism, because the true reality of where we are in terms of our culture and civilization isn’t entirely enviable. We are a pretty bastardized version of what could be good humanity, with a ton of people looking to be the next social victim and a lot of people also rejecting that as well and doing the victimizing.
At this point I feel pretty lucky to have what is a really carefree existence at this moment. Sometimes I get lost in the actual freedom of it and start feeling guilty or remind myself too much that it could change on a dime, as much often does. I was walking in the mall yesterday in the middle of the afternoon to get myself the only mascara that works Guerlain, btw and I didn’t scoff at the cost of the moisturizer when the lady at Sephora sold me on it. I felt like someone different than I usually get to be, fucking carefree which I had to add the word Fuck to to show you the absurdity of it all. Never until November have I felt I could let fucking go and just enjoy peace. Now, I know Don doesn’t have that same freedom yet and I am absolutely motivated to help him get here with me, but I am compelled by fairness. I have no delusions of grandeur about being any kind of kept princess. In fact I have really never acted like a Princess at all so there’s a voice in there telling me, this is what you deserve, Deanna, you absolutely deserve this. And the other part is like, well, where is the suffering? Why isn’t this hurting? Did you really earn this freedom after only 30 years of working when most people have to live 40+ before they get to retire? And I rationalize it with my obviously stilted lifespan and say yes, yes you do. This is why you have never acted out or expected shit. I didn’t have a wedding. I don’t expect presents, and I certainly do not expect flowers. And I most assuredly never thought I would get taken care of because that’s now how I was raised and certainly have never thought for a minute I could relax. I thought I would work until a stroke took my vision and that I wouldn’t have any great spans of time not stressed. I thought that the trends were there to continue. But sometimes, sometimes you can be surprised.
So, I do get paranoid if I don’t hear from Don more than standard 12 hours and I go through the motions of losing all my comforts and having to go back to enduring under another’s thumb. I barely believe my good luck when I have it, but I also know to appreciate it. At this point my biggest stress involves what to eat on a daily basis as cooking for one is not entirely motivating. I feel like my husband is away at war and I get to see him infrequently, but I am trying my best not to fall entirely apart. The loneliness is real and of course every day is a new story on people living longer that have lots of friends. But there’s the other part of me that wants to figure out a way to invent something to help people deal with the loneliness, or, as I love to do, prove them all wrong.
I am getting my story down, btw, the book finally is getting its pieces constructed–there’s the pieces of being adopted and life as a kid and what happened later. I have a partial other story coming into fruition but there is something really lovely about the visual arts aspect of my life coming together. I have been contemplating all of this and my stories–and really hope I can get my bucket list of things I wanted to complete actually completed. Half even would be better than what I was going to get done…I planned on dying before retirement after all. Yesterday was 30 days off FB. Did anyone notice?
Nope.
