writing, foreplay, reality?

writing.
"...Which is why I am writing this book. To think. To understand. It just happens to be the way I'm made. I have to write things down to feel I fully comprehend them."
--- from Haruki Murakami's "Norwegian Wood."

The same is true of me. I'm not able to write at the moment and it's horrible...

foreplay.
A friend of mine said she continued to have sex during pregnancy, until the final few weeks, when she simply was so full, so hormonal, so done, that she wanted nothing other than the baby to be born. I feel the same. My body is full to bursting (with my book) and all I can bear is a little light foreplay (writing down a paragraph here, a sentence there).

reality.
I am busy losing my grip on reality. What I have perceived as my reality no longer works for me. Why do I say this? I go to places, like my old house, to look for evidence of emotion and find none. Old restaurants disappoint. My friends have moved on. My ears ring with the sound of music from a different place. I can't even fucking wear my clothes anymore: nothing looks like me, nothing makes me feel like me, I hate everything I put on my body. Who I was is gone. Shit. And the old garb, the old ways, are useless.

So, what happens if I let go the iron grip? What happens if I lay down all my weapons, I mean ALL my weapons, and let the cosmos truly have its way with me?

I'll let you know.

Going, going...

Man. So I mean look, I couldn't even write in my blog this past month. I can understand if I bored you. I bored even myself. I asserted at the beginning of October that I felt good about the month--- hey, it's not over yet! But I was so wrapped up in trying to figure out what not having a book deal yet meant for me / being sorely pissed off that I kind of

ground to a halt.

And to get somewhere, you have to go somewhere. Keep moving, keep dancing (homage to Haruki Murakami's excellent Dance, Dance, Dance) to stay alive.

So while Maine was the place I edited my book, North Carolina is the place I will wait for it. No, I never imagined I'd go back to North Carolina, not in a million years, and I do not consider it a destination but -- as has happened so many times this year -- a friend has offered a place to stay while I look for a work gig. And along the way there will be adventure, friends, and resources that appear

as if by magic.