goodbye summer...

it seems so odd to me that it's suddenly august. well tomorrow it'll be august, if we're really being technical. but where did the summer go? i look at all the new yorkers and tourists and what not sweating their asses off with disgruntled looks on their faces... and i'm thinking all that sweat has GOT to be leading to weight loss... but then i look down at my own sweaty body and notice... nope.

life just keeps ticking by... and the more that i think about it, the more i wonder... what the hell am i doing here? not so much here... but HERE. with this life. i walk the sidewalks and have these conversations with myself (in my own head mind you, we wouldn't want people thinking that i'm crazy), and i have these ideas about what direction i think a novel should take, and by the time i'm sitting down again, i've completely forgotten what i would have written down. i so don't want to become one of those writers that walks around everywhere with a tape recorder... but i really might have to do it.

i pay attention to the random bits of information available on the subways... and i've seen this passage many, many times, but for some reason... reading it yesterday sort of stabbed me in the chest. i'm sure you've all seen it somewhere:

"There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something ….Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion." - E.B. White

i agree with this thought wholeheartedly... and it serves as a great reminder for me to continue to be passionate about my life here and what that means. i need to focus on my passions and stop worrying about other unnecessary actions or courses. i write... i photograph... i remember that i am passionate. i am a person of passion.

now if i only i could get laid. :)

you can be my bodyguard, i can be your long lost pal...

it's not just me going through things... it would appear that at this stage in life, an asston of people start questioning their paths, their goals... the way their lives are going (or not going as the case may be). for those of us that AREN'T making six figures at the age of 28-30, we begin to wonder what all the effort we put into our daily lives is for.

is it the right move for me to move to new york, for example, and invest two to three years in the publishing industry, when that isn't going to guarantee that i'll be able to focus and pump out an amazing commercial novel... not to mention have it picked up and published by a good house? is writing my avenue? is it a GOOD thing that i took a massive paycut to move here and pursue this, all the while wracking up more debt and living a just-slide-by existence? what's the point? and having ten people as devoted blog readers does not a best seller make. can i assume that the general masses are going to want to read what i have to write? who knows really... but i suppose that it never hurts to try.

that was a tangent, i wasn't even going to write about that originally... but i just read a slackmistress blog about her disenchantment with her life as a struggling writer, and it gets me thinking. that's all.

anyway, back to 'going through things'. a little while ago i had a falling out with someone that i'd sort of befriended... and it ended in a melee of angry emails (on her part), with her calling me self absorbed, etc. and i calmly refused to agree with her. and as upset as i was about that incident, my rational mind had to work out WHY the relationship had unfolded that way. and the answer is this: there are some people in your life that you tell things to, and some people in your life that tell you things, and very few people in your life that get to know and have it all.... the true reciprocal love that is a great friendship. and with this person, i really didn't care about her, and she might have me. and that is where the communication failed. i am an endless outlet for divulging feelings... for some reason people like to unleash the floodgates at me and tell me what's going on in their hearts. i am a great listener... usually. i give good advice, and even via online communication, offer comfort. i very rarely unload to others... and if i do it's usually to the same few people (which i'm sure is overwhelming, i just don't want to complain over and over and over again, so all twelve thousand of my friends get the latest gist)...

obv there's a lot going on in my little noggin right now... must... get... out. why am i even talking about this?? i don't remember. SEE!! this is why i can't concentrate and write a bloody book. my brain cells aren't working together.. it's a team effort here folks let's get it together!!! this weekend, i'm writing chapter one... photo editing be damned.