An aspiring writer's tiny existence in New York City while chasing a dream, and hoping that somehow this crazy, random thing called "life" all works out.
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So, for a few weeks now I've been entirely unmotivated to write even though I don't have any valid excuse. I'm currently in the Philippines, crazy as it seems. One day I was home, the next thing I knew I'd lost an entire Thursday while in the air and before I knew it, I had been up for more than 50 hours straight and was in some bizarre world of poverty mixed with insane resorts. I went through too many glasses of wine, found myself doing cannonballs into a pool at 6 a.m. as the sun was rising, followed by 40 mile an hour jet skiing later in the day. Despite the lack of sleep, I am still having trouble adjusting to the 15 hour time difference and wake up each night at strange hours. I'm not sure what day it is. I believe it is Monday. I left Seattle on a Wednesday. Strangely, I'm working out like a madman twice every day and seem to be getting in better shape despite the whacked out sleep patterns.
I'm now trying to get some of what I'm experiencing down in this blog as well as into my journal, but my heart simply isn't into writing. I'm trying to find it again. I don't know how it happened, but without warning, happiness was just yanked out of me. In its place, I have a pit in my stomach and an ache in my soul. I awake in the middle of the night drenched in sweat feeling as if I'm falling from a never-ending cliff. I'm filling the ache with working out, with reading, with more working out, with more reading. I'm trying to work like a dog to find happiness again. I decided to just blow my old life to bits and start over.
I gave notice at Amazon.com and will be done around October 31. I've decided to move out of my loft and head south. I am selling most all of my belongings and then will attempt a 3,659 mile cross-country bike journey in November. In December, I'll start a new job, selling sailboats. I came across the opportunity to be outside, to feel the wind on my skin each day and I simply could not pass it up. No more windowless office, no more wondering if the sun is shining. It's time to recharge and reinflate my crushed soul.
It's funny. I have lived my life for so long trying not to put all of my eggs in one basket and yet against my better judgement, I did. That basket dropped like a rock out of the blue. Oh well. Time for an omelette. I think the beauty of life is that whenever the bottom drops out, I always find strength and in time, I always end up better off than I was before. Aaah...there we go...feeling better already...since it now appears I've started writing again. The beauty of rock bottom is that the only direction to go is "upward." A ship in harbor is safe, but that's not what ships were built for. Time to leave the safety of my old harbor and head out to sea in search of new adventures and treasures untold...