It's not that I don't have things to say. Maybe it's that I have too much to say and don't know where to begin.
Random stuff that has been on my mind. An old friend posted in her Facebook page that her granddaughter had died. Nobody is sure what happened to her. I sure as hell am not going to ask. A friend posted on her Facebook page that she had been murdered. But there are also other comments about there being too many rumors. So I can't say. Either way, I know it was a sudden thing. It got into my dreams a few nights ago. There was violence and fear. Such darkness. I go there once in a while, but I don't like to linger. The mind is a strange thing.
Several years ago, one of this friend's daughters was murdered. It's unreal, really. She does not deserve all this pain. They say losing a child has to be the worst thing ever. But losing a child and a grand child, both quite suddenly? Unimaginable. There isn't anything I can do for this friend. Just tell her I'm sorry, and keep her in my thoughts, and such. I may try to make her a painting. Something.
On painting, one of my major goals of this summer, to get my painting studio up and going, failed. I did make some progress towards the goal, but I had hoped to be ready by the time school started. I'm back teaching now, and its kicking my ass. Work is always exhausting. The first month, especially. They've taken away my classroom, and I'm on a cart going class to class. It's ok. Hey, I think I'm getting in better shape, at least. But I am still working towards the goal of the studio. When I don't have creative outlets, I get really depressed. The original art studio in the laundry room didn't really work. Because laundry has taken over. I hate putting away laundry, so it just sits there for a while until I get to it. But like I said, work is wearing me out. Laundry management is not the top of my list of things to do when I get home.
The themes going through my head are the nature of life and death. Nothing heavy or anything.
My cousin Mary Catherine died in June. She was 21. She had liver cancer and fought it for years. I felt especially close to her recently because we were diagnosed in the same year. If I could have given her some of my years, I would have. Her friend wrote and performed a song for her.
My aunt Dot also died a few weeks go. Lots of memories regarding her. I missed both of these family funerals, as well as my uncle Larry's in January.
I seem to be constantly broke, and stuck in one place. Going out of town is a luxury at the moment. I've managed to get up to see mom a few times. But not as much as I'd like. I haven't even gotten to go camping or kayaking this summer. I kind of feel like I am suffocating sometimes. I'm writing this at 1:30ish AM. Which means the insomnia is still keeping me company. For some reason, late at night is when my mind races the most. Melatonin helps, but not always (I'm lying here waiting for it to help right now).
I wonder why I don't often feel lonely. Or is it that I am so used to loneliness now that it seems normal ?
On that note, I'm going to try sleep again.
Bonsoire!
