I’d thought I’d take a look at 818, Reflections on a Tuesday Night this Tuesday night as the sky roars and the winds threaten to push down what little isn’t already held down in the backyard. I am fine, if not a little hot in the office following a period of humidity I haven’t seen in years. So, it felt right to turn back the years to that Tuesday when I wrote, “There are days when I want to wake up in 1991 and have a chance to do things with the effort and vigor I know I am capable of. You can’t go back. Perhaps the truth is that death is merely an cessation of new material and you live everything over and over again, but life is forward. It is the next moment and the moment after that. I didn’t feel that way earlier in my life, but as I age I recognize this fact and the fact that there isn’t really time to waste.”
This random selection of a blog argues the portent of those words. I’ve held steady to the idea that life may indeed be a loop and I may already be looping. I’ve felt a darkness over me every evening that makes it hard to sleep and even harder to have dreams that don’t descend into a nameless ordinary terror that is all but forgotten when I rise save for the feeling that it was there and my self-soul was not pleased.
For all of this–for all of this ill feeling I am outraged at myself. Life now is better than it has been in some time, and perhaps that is the reason my mind worries itself through the night. It is all too good to be true. It is all happening and things are better than I could’ve guessed. Earlier in that blog I wrote about a novel (no idea which one) but now I’ve finished and sold a different novel. I am on to the next (in spite of the pesky bit of avoidance I’ve acquired these past days). I am happy in love and feeling like I can do all the things I want to in life. I suppose part of me is afraid I don’t deserve it, and the universe has already figured out that I don’t.
We all know what happens at the end of those scenarios…