I am starting to write again.

I don't know what it is the propelled me to start writing on my blog again. But I feel a strong urge today, as if there is something in me that just needs to come out. And I don't even know what it is. I love writing, indeed. Maybe it is just a way for me to organize my thoughts, or to simply to deal with my self. But maybe it's just the coming of the Fall.

I am distracted. I have been distracted, on an every day basis. I realized that I spend most of my time distracting myself with thoughts about food, laundry, cash, and the effort of trying to live. This sounds ridiculous but I realized that was what occupied my thoughts most of the time in the past year. As much as I have said in the past year that I do not want to settle down, I had to admit today to myself that I've been, every single day in the past year, trying to settle down. I don't know what it is that is so unsettling but I put a lot of energy fixing all these little things so that I would feel more settled... and I am really tired. I just wanna be somewhere where I can feel settled.

I wish I could read all day, by myself and understand the world that way. Yet, reading about humanity has always directed me back to humanity. Insightful authors often reveal glimpses of truths that touch on my instinct to go back to life. Eros and Death. Death is my default. I fantasized that we'll understand life when death consumes us. And then all these will have meaning.

Though, I don't get addicted to truth in books because they are second-hand, and carry that odor of old pages. Life and happiness, I like them too, somewhere in me, I like them too.

Just started Han Keilson's "Death of an adversary"

am already captured by the style of

complete naked emotions and

shaking realness