I remember once I’d connected with a guy and it was all very platonic but poignant and caring. At the end, I told him we may never see each other again but I wished him well, and he thanked me and said he loved me. A few months later he was threatening that if I wanted to be with soulsuckers, no matter how far I buried myself, how well I hid, he would find me and dig me out.
That conversation made me more careful. Who knows, maybe on some level of interpretation, his intentions are actually really benevolent, but he really scared the hell out of me.
I’m in a second floor room with a balcony facing the moody Pacific. An obstacle course of littered driftwood creates a barrier between the cabins and the water, so you have to climb them to get through. I’ll probably make a training course from it, force myself to work on my concentration and focus. It’s stormy here- angry winds and a battering tide. The building shudders. Outside, large rock formations are as magnificent and mystical as those of Easter Island. Love the sound when the ocean is unsettled. You can do nothing but give in to it, succumb to it. Let yourself consume the fear. Whatever happens, happens. We’re near a tsunami warning area. I want to walk around there tomorrow. That area reminded me of that Murakami story about the artist. I’m very isolated here. It’s hard for me to hide in small towns. But it makes anyone who’s watching me stand out. People usually ask where I came from. What they really want to know is why I’m here alone. Maybe I came here looking for you, I say. And they sit down and I hold their hand and their life unfolds.
Not really. But maybe it could happen that way. I haven’t tried it.
When you’re at the end of the world, so isolated, no way to reach you, and someone gets a message through? Well, that message is going to come in loud and clear.
julia hunts a lone.