I think I’ve had maybe two days of truly good feelings and exuberant productivity in the last two weeks. That’s pretty lame. It’s not even November yet!
The other night, I realized that it’s been a month since I posted my Aika face. At the time, I thought I’d made a breakthrough. Things were going to change. Get better. Illusions would be dispelled, truths would be clarified, and steps would lighten. Would not the whole world seem more appetizing? A delicious treat waiting to be devoured?
I licked my lips, I waited to want the world.
I waited.
I waited.
This is a kind of waiting that I do not feel is wholly inappropriate. There is nothing to it aside from waiting, no promises or strings or expectations. Kind of like waiting for no one at a train station.
But while it’s the kind of waiting I find ‘acceptable,’ it is not particularly easy.
(Nothing should be easy!)
But I can’t sing that I’ll wait, I’ll wait, I’ll wait, I’ll wait—that, while a kind of waiting I’m far better at, would be inappropriate. It’s a dedication and a commitment. It’s an unfounded and unreasonable pining. One for which the waiter should need permission.
The narrative is, as a housemate commented, making itself clear.
An arc of my life.
With every post, I can find more previous posts to link together. Cohesion is manifesting. Sense can be made of my ramblings. Are you reading this? Or are you too distant?
A new week. Another Monday.
Starting tomorrow, I will make a renewed commitment to positif thinking, to energetic productivity, to Mizunashii Mode, to staying upbeat. For whom? For me, of course. But also for you, in case I’m not just standing outside the train station.
I’ll pass on projecting too much of Shinkai upon myself.
