Random Excerpt Sharing Time!

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I love to write.

This morning, I’m sorting through some boxes, trying to consolidate my things, creating space.

I found a couple of notebooks, and I can’t help but leaf through them. It’s random excerpt sharing time! Most of these are not dated, and if they’re about someone, I don’t remember who. I can’t tell if some of these are fiction. 

This particular notebook is mostly from 2004. Five years ago already.

How do I know if she’s still my friend? that she still likes me? How does she know I won’t abandon her? It sure does feel like I’m not as important to her as I thought I was. It is so frustrating sometimes. Is she still guarding herself? Does she not trust me anymore? I said I was sorry. I have not had a chance to show her I won’t mess up again. She doesn’t want to take that chance with me. I don’t know any of these things, these are just feelings, hunches – what my nervous stomach is telling me. I just don’t know what is true with her anymore.

Oh. Here’s a dated one:
January 2, 2004
I’m supposed to write. I’m supposed to teach through writing, if all I do is provoke thought and reflection. If I do this correctly, my words, which really aren’t my words, will go a long, long way.

Undated. Most likely a Sunday.
The babies were all tuned to the same frequency today. It was uncanny how they were quiet at the same time, laughing at the same time, crying at the same time, screaming AT THE SAME TIME.

On the same page:
It’s interesting to feel so isolated sitting in a subway car full of people and yet feel very contented sitting by yourself, surrounded by no one, just you and the solid ground beneath you.

On the same page:
I stared at my computer screen and read over the beginnings of 5 short stories. They didn’t have endings. They didn’t have middles. Just little stem cells of stories. I abandoned them, neglected them. They are so far and long removed from my mind.

(Turning the page …)

I barely recognized them, much less recall their potential as (fully developed) mature stories. Should I throw them away? Should I keep them hoping I can remember the characters and plots? Could I keep them in case the stories decide to tell themselves differently? … Sigh. I’ll keep them and see what generates.

A separate thought:
It is possible to be inspired and not motivated or not have the desire. I still find it difficult to focus. My brain can’t sit on any one idea for any length of time. I need to go back to writing more regularly.

Another thought:
I love it when the subway car is virtually empty and the train stops and one other person gets on, seeing that he/she has the entire car of seats to choose from. He/she ends up plopping down two seats away. Sometimes I’m lucky enough to have him/her sit RIGHT NEXT TO ME. Why? Why can two air molecules evenly space themselves and not two human beings? strangers? Shouldn’t they have an innate awareness of natural law? What about personal space and comfort zones and safety and hygiene? Do these barriers only exist in my mind? If so, then why can’t other people follow my rules? Hmm? Veddy veddy interesting.

Last one for today:
July 15, 2004
All I can do is sit here and smile.
My heart’s about to burst.
A smile can’t even just sit still on my face.
Even my smile wants to dance.
I sit here, seemingly calm
while my face fights to keep this smile from dancing.

Thank you notes for Saturday, July 26, 2008

IMG_3597Dear Weather,
Thank you for being so cooperative today. It was nice of you being all sunny with a cool breeze and in the mid 80s. You really made my heart sing. Wild thing. Except for the mild sunburn where I couldn’t reach with sunscreen, I think I love you.



Dear Long Beach, Long Island,
Thank you for your soft sand and your perfect water. It felt cool and wonderful and the waves swelled and crashed and just about knocked me over a few times, and I didn’t want the day to end. It’s okay you let a bit too many people lie and play along your coast, and it’s okay some of that sand got in my swimming suit top. The sand formed a small dune on the bathroom floor before I took a shower I after I got home today. I appreciate the ways you help me remember you. You’re the best.


IMG_3603Dear Man in the Turquoise Speedo,
Thank you for standing in front of us at the beach. You provided great entertainment, and not too many could get away with that color and that fabric girding the loins. Unfortunately, you are not one of those people. You don’t care though, and that’s why I respect you. You rock.


Dear Tan,
It’s good to see you again.


Dear Friends,
Thanks for a wonderful day. I haven’t felt quite this relaxed in a long, long time.


IMG_3600Dear Boundaries,
This is the last time I’ll update a little bit specifically on feelings that relate to … people. I know that’s vague, but he asked me to apply sunscreen to his back. And I have to help a guy out, you know? And since he also played in the waves, he needed a reapplication. And I have to help a guy out. You know. So, I guess this is a request for you to help me out, because it’s time to keep some things private. If readers want to know details about what whirlwinds are spinning in my head, they can email or call. I hope that’s okay. I really appreciate your help.