On Nothing, But Maybe Everything (jk. idk)

Hello, my public online diary.

Yesterday was nice. I slept in, made breakfast, and went for a bike ride in the Sunset District. It was a beautiful and sunny day. I biked through the Golden Gate Park, then stopped by Green Apple Bookstore, the local bookstore in my neighborhood. Browsed the shelves for a few hours and found lots of used books I'm excited about -- lots of new ones that are now added to my "books I will someday read, but in the meantime, they look nice on my bookshelf" pile. 

Currently, my favorite author is Banana Yoshimoto. She's a Japanese author famous for her book, "Kitchen." I haven't read Kitchen and don't know too much about what the book is about; I'm currently reading "Amrita" and I love it. The overarching themes fall on death, family, and understanding how our pasts form our futures. It's just...Yoshimoto's way with words... how she draws you in with these seemly minute (but romantic) passages, then she surprises you with a line that is out of the ordinary and you're left wondering, "Wait. What just happened?" Or "Okay, that was a bit too abstract for me to understand and fully appreciate," but I want to understand and appreciate it. I want to appreciate all the words she strings together!!!! She's such a great storyteller and she takes you on quite an imaginative journey. I mostly like how she makes ordinary, everyday events innocent and intimate, maybe even special, much like the breeze that creeps through an open window on a sunny Sunday afternoon. 

Anyway, I found a used book of hers, piqued the cashier's attention, and we talked about Yoshimoto's books for a while (first human interaction in a long time!).

Just kidding. I see people. Sometimes. 

She suggested another Yoshimoto book of short stories titled, "Lizard," that I also found used and have already started to read. Ah, it's so good, dude. So good. 

I forgot what the point of this post was. I guess it's a diary so it's okay that nothing makes sense. I'm just spilling my thoughts but on a different medium. My hands always end up too tired, too uncomfortable, and hurting when I handwrite and so, I can never finish what I started. I'm a big baby, I know... but typing on here is nice. And honestly, this helps me be better at articulating my thoughts... and improve my writing (I hope). Okay, I am rambling again. 

Well, I guess the point is, I had a good weekend and that was nice. (Wow, I need to expand my vocabulary. Everything is just "nice.")

Alright, I'm done. I'm going to submit this and permanently upload on to the internet. At least when I'm long gone (due to death), these thoughts will remain in the Cloud.

The new cover of Amrita taken with bad lighting and edited pretty terribly

On the last two years

If there's one good thing about the internet knowing all there is to know about you, it's that it knows your login and password, then, will help you retrieve it. Thank god for Google I guess.

My last post was in 2017. A lot has happened since then. I left my job and home in Southern California to move to San Francisco. I still remember the date. February 24, 2018. No idea why it's ingrained in my head. I'm usually pretty terrible at remembering exact dates for anything. What was the date of my college graduation? The date of my first "big girl" job, post-graduation? 

Anyway, since then, a lot has happened. I fell in love with my new job, a new city, and the idea of being on my own again. I visited Cuernavaca, Cancun, Mexico City, and Teotihuacán in Mexico. Went on a backpacking trip in Denali, Alaska. Witnessed orcas and humpback whales breach over waters in Kenai Fjords. Went on several dates (I know, whaaaaat). Then remembered I'm terrible at dating - it's never them, it's me. I picked up cycling, trail running, and the very occasional climbing sessions. Life was so great. I was learning, doing, and exploring so much. I was peaking... until I peaked. And then...

And then... I lost my job sometime in October of 2018. Long story short. The company dissolved. The company laid off all of the two-hundred-and-something wonderful employees with nothing but the tears in our eyes. 

Except for a few people I saw over the course of the next few days (if you're reading this, thank you), I didn't tell anyone about it. Not even my closest friends. I told my family of course. It wasn't because I was embarrassed about it. It sucked, for sure. I was devastated. But these things happen right? I think I was just numb. It was how I dealt with most things. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to repeat the same story over and over again. I just put a foolish smile on my face and tried to look on the bright side. I'm the type of person who would gravitate to the more positive and optimistic thinking, but I soon learned that it wasn't what I need this time. 

I think I allowed myself to be sad about it for one day. 

Then I distracted myself with so many things for countless others. Hanging out with friends, eating (lots of eating), running, cycling, exploring the city, watching the surf at the beach, and reading. Also drinking. Lots of drinking. Maybe to further numb the pain? I really don't know. I was happy doing so. Is living just crossing off a big list of one happy distraction after another? 

---

One Sunday in December (I think it was December 09, 2018. I remember this one too.). I was walking home from watching a movie and having dinner with a friend when someone called me. It was my friend, Vivian. She called to tell me about her trip to Joshua Tree and we talked about that for a while. Then she asked me about my life and for some reason... I just cried. I'm not sure what prompted the tears but holy shit, it felt weird. I was sad. So sad about everything, but especially where I was in life. I cried for a long time. 

After we got off the phone, I laid in bed, turned on some sad tunes, and cried for a few more hours. I felt terrible inside but also, strangely relieved. Crying is so therapeutic after the fact isn't it? I finally admitted to myself that I was sad, really fucken sad, and just let that emotion consume me. It was strange. It was necessary. It felt so easy, so natural. I wasn't forcing positive thoughts into my head. I just let my feelings be. Oh man, those feelings were dark and scared and so unsure of themselves. They all needed a really long hug. 

That night I thought a lot about my self-worth. I put so much of what I value in myself in the work that I do. My job, my contribution to society, the impact I strive to create - all of that adds up to what I think of myself. What I did and who I was, are entwined. I really loved my last job. I truly believed we were creating something valuable. So, with a part of that gone, I had no idea who I was anymore. Then, the age-old question came up, What the fuck am I doing with my life?

I didn't know. And that devastated me. I couldn't move on. I didn't know how to move on. Did I even want to move on?? I knew I desperately needed to move forward.

Anyway, then came a whole month of self-doubting, self-loathing, and minimal motivation. 

I'm definitely in a better place now, but more on that in another post. This is getting quite long and I should get some sleep. 

Thank you for reading.

I do want to say, I'm so grateful for everyone who showed me that they cared about me during this strange time. You made me smile more than you could ever know. (I should tell you in person, too.)

And sorry for the abrupt stop. I'm really quite sleepy.