the tramalfadorians would be shutting up their palms left and right.

i always seem to post when i'm feeling a bit melancholic. i began reading moby dick this morning, and the mood of the book reminded me of how close i am to the ocean. i would like to swim in the ocean. living on an island is a tricky thing - i honestly draw comfort from the water, but the ocean is the source of our isolation. i appreciate how, when i look out into aiea (a nearby town) from the top of a hill in my neighborhood, i get the sense that the land does not go on forever. something about that finality cradles me. there is a completely different sense when i land in little rock. the land obviously goes on for hundreds of miles in each direction. i guess it's just a different sort of isolation.

i've only spent three (maybe four?) nights in my house since i got home, all of which were spent on the couch. i'm dogsitting for some family friends, so i spend the night at their house with their dogs instead of sleeping at home. there are two dogs, and, when i go to sleep at night, they sleep on either side of me. i still vastly prefer cats to dogs, but it's nice to not go to sleep completely alone. the family returns on monday night, so this is my last night here. after tonight, maybe i'll have a bedroom again.

working full-time is quite a learning experience. all i really do is go to work. by the time i get home, it's anywhere from 4:30-5:00 and i'm too drained to do much of anything. i had not expected to have so little energy after work. the job itself isn't necessarily bad, though. i'm quickly learning the subtleties of the office and i've been able to meet some very nice (bitter, but nice) people. my best friend in the office is named rachel, and she's a bit younger than my parents. she has a very young spirit, though, and she talks about god every single day. it's a fascinating work environment. plus, i get my parking validated. nothing makes a girl into a woman like getting her parking validated when she leaves the office every evening.

it took me two years, but i finally listened to the whole postal service album - a mistake, maybe. ben gibbard wants to take me far away from the cynics of this town, etc. etc. i listen to ben folds so often now that it feels like we're involved. i think i spend more time with him than with anybody else.

except the dogs, i guess. speaking of which, they're barking. i'd better let them out for a while.

thanks, everybody.

everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, etc. etc.

i've been thinking a lot about where i was
around this time last year, and how
controlled i was and how scared.

i'm breaking all of my old rules.

so, new rules. (that's how it works, right?)

1. no sad music
2. no sad movies
3. no overly-happy movies
4. no yelling
5. no staying up late before work
6. no expectation

i think that's pretty good for now.

i'm going to miss listening to "late" by ben folds,
but i'll just listen to "landed" twice as much now.
that song is freedom.

things are alright in hawaii.
how is everything where you are?

it's ok to call.
i will answer for myself. =)

dearests,

i've been thinking that there is no such thing as a beginning or an ending. the world is both beginning and ending simultaneously and perpetually. why do we have so many words for impotent concepts?

just something i'm thinking about.

with enduring affection,
karyn

p.s. i got a job working for a divorce lawyer. it is tight and it pays. today was my first day.

p.p.s. i'm going to try and take some pictures over the weekend of things that are good about hawaii. check back later.

this is long. i've been saving up for a few days.

as soon as i got into my kia to drive to katie's house, i realized that the next few hours were going to be the longest time i'd been alone in weeks. and i've been thinking about being alone, really being alone, wondering if i will have to learn to be content without ready companionship. so, for the time i was in the car, i had my hair wickedly down around my shoulders to keep me warm, the air conditioning off, my windows rolled all the way down, my music playing inappropriately loudly, the speedometer hovering on 75 mph, and my mind in positive flames.

shaking off the conditioned air and letting the night into the car made a great difference. i smelled everything. i could smell the flowers growing from the road's side. i could smell the blades of grass themselves. even the rotting deer corpse was a welcomed smell - even traditionally negative experiences are experiences. katie reminds me sometimes that i should shut up my books and live outside thoughts and have real experiences. i guess that trying to take her advice was part of her birthday present.

having said that, i imagined during the drive that i was going to be alone for the rest of my life. i just fantasized that it was truth and i tried to cope with it. i wanted to know what that would feel like. i think i have a better idea now. before then, i'd never fully appreciated how strong my imagination can be. i think my imagination might be the key to being alright living alone forever. yes yes i realize that i have a boyfriend. i realize the implications there. i care about him incredibly, and i have no plans to be alone. it just seems like something for which i should be prepared.

for now, i am not alone. i have a best friend whom i drove to see on her birthday. i like that. she played the piano for me while i was writing. she gives me so much more than i can give her, and i'm thankful for all of it. if i could be that way for somebody else, even if it's not her, the universe would be in balance. maybe it is. no comments, please. i would rather think sometimes than know.

the thing is, we really cannot count on people to complete us. we cannot count on anything to complete us. we will never be complete people. we will never be all of what we could be, or what we want to be.

i can recognize now that no matter how situationally sad i am at times, i am truly not depressed anymore. i think, also, that i've developed (for myself) a splendid definition of depression. it is difficult to communicate because it is a thought (yes, i know), but i will try. and i'm not trying for you, you understand. i will try for myself at this moment. anyway, depression is my state of being when i have no concern for whether i am awake or asleep when the time passes. it's not about wanting to die - i think it is actually more selfish - it's wanting only to sleep whenever being awake is the slightest bit taxing. it's being completely fine with skipping substantial chunks of life through sleep. it occurred to me that i have wasted a lot of time being asleep, extravagantly popping sleeping pills as if i have as many moments in life as i please. i do hope somebody can understand. i do not want to be a coward. i want to be awake while i'm alive, not just in moments of ease and painlessness.

i feel like i'm growing. if this were physically manifested, as i am feeling inwardly, anointed jewish boys would be collecting five smooth stones just at the sight of me. it feels fantastic. all of that and here i am now - i did not take any nyquil to make me sleep on the flights to hawaii. everybody knows how i feel about hawaii, but i was awake and i am awake now. actually, i spent the plane ride writing (this) and reading what i've written in the past year to see how it might speak to me. it screamed at me, using my full name. it screamed and stomped. i can say that i have created things and have loved them. i love them now, as they are aging and i am aging. i think i love them for saving me.

as i was in los angeles, i tried to analyze california. that state of my birth, my parents tell me. it's on my birth certificate. i feel no connection to california, not even with effort. actually, and i hope that this makes sense to somebody someplace, i got the sense (while i was looming 30,000 feet above california) that i was was not actually born anywhere. obviously, the physical act happened, obviously my mother toiled with my short umbilical cord and my crude monkey limbs, but i don't feel as if that happened in california, or anywhere at all. i want to badly to understand these feelings.

i can't speak for any other human being, if i can speak for myself, but i think maybe that i am looking at the feeling backwards. it's not that i was born nowhere, but that i was born everywhere.

i'm just trying to open up a little bit. if my mind is loose here, then it becomes the world, and living inside my mind doesn't seem so shameful. a little unity and i'm not a ridiculous hermit.

(jeremy - i don't know if you'll remember this, but before i left i cited harvey the postman as #19, and i said i'd probably come up with #20 before i landed in hawaii. well, everything after "this is long" is #20. i see how none of this is possible without the exact conditions of my life as it exists right now. or, i could say, nothing is possible without nothing. or everything is impossible without everything. i hope we can bicker about that soon.)

i'm beginning to see and understand (in the least superficial way that i've ever seen or understood it, i mean) how there are no dark clouds with silver linings. there are only billowing silver clouds all across every horizon, no matter where a person stands to see the sun setting or rising. there is only silver at night, only the silver manifestation of the sun against the moon. i had never appreciated the sun before today.

i've never loved like this. i don't mean a boy. rather, it is anything/nothing at all. i love you all more sincerely than i have ever loved you before.

with understanding comes love, and love perhaps begets greater understanding, or greater potential for and desire for understanding. pain isn't even part of the cycle, because it falls away against the massive silver backdrop.

really, when you look at it, all the universe is one color. this might be why color is so amazing.

so, let's dance. there is much to be done.

i took a bath this morning. well, this afternoon.

and i was finishing up 1984. my legs were bent and propped up, and it got to be an uncomfortable position, so i had in mind to straighten out my left leg and lay it flat in the tub. as my brain was telling my leg to lay flat, i became aware that my leg was slowly falling down by itself because of the slick side of the tub and the distribution of weight.

so instead of moving my leg, i just let it slide down flat. it took a long time.

i don't know how to explain how important that was to me. i waited for something to happen by itself. it was difficult and i did it. i hope somebody who reads this can possibly understand what i'm saying.

i also unpacked and re-packed my books today.

soon i'll drive to katie's.

i can do anything.