You’re reading this blog backwards. You’re starting with the first post in present time, and then flipping back the pages until you reach the beginning.
In the years I’ve been blogging, you would think I’d be smarter, a little wiser, but I’m even more clueless than when I first began this charade of recording my life online.
The things I thought I knew, I didn’t know. The things I grew to love and depend on, vanished. I’m living a different life from the one I had two years ago. I’m living a strangers life. It doesn’t feel like my own. This new person likes to take risks. She has no stability or ground beneath her – she is free falling without a clue or a parachute. Where ever she lands, she only hopes someone will be there to catch her.
I have very limited funds in my savings account. I told my job not to schedule me clients without confirming with me first, but I’m not getting any calls at all now. I just booked a trip to South America and at this moment, have no way of paying for it.
My only hope for real world survival is completely dependant on the success of my new business venture. But because of my lack of ambition, I found myself at my family’s cottage in Rhode Island. Drinking daiquiri’s and clamming with my brother and his fiance. The life of Riley. Driving home from Rhode Island, I went over to Matt’s house for a fire pit and drank Connecticut moonshine – getting free voice lessons from him (relaxing your voice is key). I didn’t get home until 6am.
Distractions are my greatest weakness. My need to be loved by others, my greatest downfall.
I’m just a girl in the world, not playing by any normal desires to be strapped down into the comforts of convention. Running around aimlessly searching for the point in anything. Just when I think I got it, it takes on new form, dissolving itself in the viscous liquid of logic. The point is gone and leaves me wanting to run and escape the tirade of not knowing.
My desire to write and record is the only link I have to finding what’s real. This blog is my beacon of hope – a lighthouse in the dark.
It can be viewed as being a backwards account of my life, or it can be seen as having a new beginning everyday. What’s past is past.
Our cottage in Rhode Island originally belonged to my grandparents. My grandmother used to pickle green tomatoes. I found an old jar of pickled green tomatoes from 1988 still sealed in a rusty mason jar. The contents all brown and mushy. The point of the tomatoes had been lost with my grandmothers passing. She died the next year in 1989. But when she prepared that jar of tomatoes, she didn’t think it would be pointless. She gave it meaning in the process. Always having the intension of pleasing others.
Maybe the act of doing anything at all for other people, brings meaning. And what ever comes of it must be eaten up as soon as possible before it spoils. My blog is my chance to eat things up and make sense of it all. Maybe helping others in the process.
I hope I don’t spoil like these tomatoes did.