2004-05-02 - 10:15 p.m.

who am i not to love my neighborhood.

is it perspective,

or is it city?

in the last couple of days i've been in a panic about moving out of this city. i've been feeling the weight of my "senseless" life.

i think on most days it is perspective and just being who i authentically am, thus attracting more of that in my life.

my city is amazing. it has everything. i was just on a night walk. the air is so perfect and warm with that ocean breeze. i'm walking by the 'groovy' church and hear some wild drumming. i wonder if it is some renegade band who broke in and are in a practice session. i walk through the entry, up the stairs. it's dark, but the doors are wide open. i peer investigatively into the body of the room to see a circle of drummers, candles and a woman in the middle, laying flat on the floor, flailing to the inspiration of the music. only in my section of town would this happen, and in topanga of course. last weekend at the topanga earthday fest there were beautiful hippy kid belli dancers and stationary bicycle powered blenders that made orgasmic fruit smoothies. there were people there to save the butterflys or some shit, a weed cutting committee to avoid pesitcide use in the canyon draining to the ocean. on my way back i stopped at this angel-lite rock hut. it is this small crystal stand on the side of the road famous for its angel lite beds. get this, they are this healing bed of rock flown from peru. now, i'm just saying...but everytime (twice) that i've layed on the bed of angel-lite my life has drastically changed in the next week. the first was a getting my first career job and embarking on that whole scene. the second was the love of my life breaking my heart the very next day and breaking me free to really explore the bounds of me.

so cheesey.

i layed on it last week.

this week i've argueable had some serious breaking down. and a part of it was that gbook entry, like a stab of reality from anothers eyes. i don't want to be sucked into this inner circle of spin. my quality of life has plummeted. yes, i'm now doing exactly what i love in life. and even my pay jobs are amazing things i can easily wrap my love around. but combining them all in a 12 hour day is fucking killing me. and then this new type of socialiting i've been doing. too much of it. i used to just create, work very little and surf and do yoga and enjoy.

today was the first day in nearly five months that i've surfed. you know what surfing has been to me. i was out in the water wondering what the fuck happened to me. where the fuck have *i* been?

that water, the vastness of the horizon. the soaring of the birds dipping beneath the curve of a wave.

i feel like as i inch, painstakingly closer to the freedom of my goals, the more wildly destructive my mind becomes. the more caos i blend in.

i've just come from a long string of not being capable of sitting with myself. and ever since i started god damn therapy i've been a meeting, dating and sex machine. it's like a plummeting. i haven't been using protection and there is nothing more destructive of my sense of self and of myself than that. each time the full moon shines i wonder if i'll get my period.

and to curb the anxiety of work and stress of finances, i've been over eating like mad.

i guess it's as my sweat leader talks about, cyclical. it's not linear, like i continually get better rising up, more like an upward spiral.

what is this linked to? is there something even deeper, or is it just the late twenties basket case type thing? i feel like i'll look back on 28 and say it was one of the hardest years.

i've got to take five steps back. i've got to steal, rob, carve, insist on time away each day for my mental health like i used to so easily indulge in.

it all really coagulated today when i was reading this piece an editor worked over for me that i wrote a year ago. i wrote it from such a gentle, healed, accepting place. and lately i've been nothing short of brutal to myself. i was stunned and a bit emotional reading the softness of it, the forgiveness sinking in. i can't believe i wrote that. i can't believe that is in me somewhere beneath all this other 'stuff.'

the plan..

july 2: re-evaluate having so many jobs.

sometime after sept: re-evaluate my ability to move to sf. until then, work vivaciously hard to positi-fy my perspective on my city and my life.

i know, and you were dying to hear about my sex story with the french man this weekend. sorry i went for the therapuetic note. you can blame renaissance.