its 10:27 am on tuesday oct 13 and im starting to write.

this is going to be the first post in a long time in which i actually write about my life.

it gets easy to throw poetry and videos and images up here but its raining today and i feel like being honest, i feel like connecting a fire hose between my brain and my fingers and just opening the valve.

of course that cant happen because im at work and im paid to work at work and i dont even know what the point is of the work i work on but im working on it.

so im going to write this in fits and starts, throughout the day or longer if necessary, between press releases and pitches, between launches and lunch runs, between calls and coffee breaks, im going to keep adding to this post until the pressure in my brain releases.

why does the first letter of each post indent a little with this new blog template? its driving me to distraction. i do like this new format though. it has the right ethos. is ethos the right word? what is wrong with my words?

I feel like someone played a mean joke and switched the letters on the keyboard of my brain so while i think im tapping out coherent thoughts its all ending up gibberish.

on sunday i saw a perfectly beautiful piece of theater, next to normal. i watched the main character, a middle aged well educated mother and housewife played by the epically talented alice ripley, fight and fail to win a battle with bipolar disorder and depression and traumatic hallucination and hysteria and a bitter cocktail of other undiagnosable issues and i related completely.

thats not to say that im there, im no wheres near there, im blessed, grateful, fairly fulfilled, relatively sane, basically grounded and extremely well supported by love but no part of me said, this is impossible. no part of me said, this will never happen to you.

infact, a large part of me said, if you dont figure out what you want out of life and then go after it, if you dont listen to yourself and what you need to be happy, if you make decisions out of fear and laziness, you will become isolated and self destructive. you will become an insubstantial colorless ghost of a human, comprised of the worst most loathsome elements of yourself.

and then i said to myself, lying in bed, rigid with anxiety: but by thinking this, by being aware of it, arent you allready sidestepping the trap? isnt awareness half if not almost all the battle?

no. i retorted to myself. no damnit no. why the fuck are you still in this job you hate that has nothing to do with what you want to accomplish, whatever that is.

oh, why? i replied, laying on the nasty patronizing tone that i know my self hates, let me tell you daisy. let me tell you what youre trying not to admit: you continue to tell people and yourself that youre "in the process of planning to prepare to make a decision to make a move" but you are not actively working on this move. and this is not better than saying, you know what, PR sucks but its all im going to strive to do in life. it is worse. because you, daisy, are aware that you are spinning your tires but you are using psychobabblejargonshit to justify the fear and laziness that is preventing an overdue change that might not directly immediately make you happier but will at least have the potential to introduce you to what would.

and then i thought, daisy, youre lying in bed conversing freely with yourselves and you are wondering if you have the potential to go stark raving mad? honey youre half way there. what are you going to do about it?

i want to travel and farm and read and listen and watch and wander through beautiful and ugly places and meet beautiful and ugly people the way i did when i took my year off between highschool and college but this time with eyes and mind open much wider than my 17/18 year old self. but im afraid of the dark side of travelling alone-or at least that i experience- that i never talked about with people when i came back.

everyone is always interested in that year. ohhh itttaallllyy they say, and i nod and smile as if italy is my little secret and when they ask i tell them something to reinforce all the cliches about tuscan life because thats all anyone wants to hear anyway. i gush about that the things i saw and the people i met because thats what youre supposed to do when youve been blessed enough to have the opportunity to travel.

but there are parts of it i have conveniently not mentioned. there were periods of loneliness, sadness, isolation and deep self destructive insecurity that i had never experienced before that year and that i havent experienced since. of course i have been sad and lonely in the last five years but its different from the safety of home. and i dont think those periods had much to do with being young but more with being uprooted and away from the people who stay so close to me that i dont have room to fall in any direction.