595: a quiet, rainy morning

a rainy morning in hong kong.

I have a feeling this is going to become a regularity now. I am feeling sleepy, my head is heavy. the sky is dark and grey. it was raining all night, which caused me to drift in one of the deepest sleeps in a while. making it impossible to wake up in the morning. stiffed, cold shoulders even though it’s summer out there. arrival at the office, everything seems to quieter than usual. things seem to be slow around here today. but it will be a long day. and my father leaves for europe tonight. it will be my turn soon. it is the only thing on my mind.

strange dreams, a cup of coffee, wet hair. the air conditioner is on, I am cold. I am mentally preparing myself for an interview in the next few days. hopeful. writing, editing. hours of research and endless starring into excel spreadsheets. lunch break. coffee with the filmmaker. a phone call here and there. then silence for a day or two. repetition.

listening to jack johnson. I still wonder how did we manage to get to such a low and humiliating point. what happened to us?

june 27

I am completely stuck when it comes to my writing. I seem to be unable to write three consecutive sentences that would make sense when put together. and filmmaker’s genius musings that he sends in my direction every thirty minutes are not helping with the increase of self-esteem. quite the contrary. the only thing stopping me from being a great writer is laziness. I will never forget the pure genius of susan sontag and her unforced ability to transform my mind into something of substance and sensibility. or at least push me in the appropriate direction. however, being fully committed to the corporate world and its quirkiness means I have a whole lot less time for everything. I barely have any spare time for writing and weekends have become a treasure.

writer’s block has got a grip on me. perhaps later.