I've been out of touch with myself in past months. I haven't picked up and finished a novel. I haven't went out for a jog. I haven't had one of my sessions where I lock the bathroom door, place headphones in then mosh the hell out of my head. I haven't really made myself some green smoothie containing kale. I haven't wrote anything for myself. I haven't asked myself what I dream for.
I haven't been with myself.
It all started with a book. I decided that I'll slowly build things that reinvest into who I used to be. And it was that smell of a book which I found so comforting. That feeling where you're diving into a book where everything else in the world is just on the hold. I miss that comforting feel. I miss that time I had for myself while reading. I never knew a book would bring a part of me back.
Currently reading: Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan and allow me to emphasize that the book is really good. It is not entirely measured on the fact it brought a part of me back. It is because it is so well written and how eerily the author recalls of her story. It's a memoir, an award winning one. York Times best selling one as well. The author was hospitalized because of one rare disorder, it was a medical mystery at first but the book slowly takes you into "an-out-of-mind" experience where everything falls into place eventually. If you want to borrow my book and get a package from Anchorage, AK- do let me know.
Still on the other sleeping part of myself,
-C
Btw, I took Chinese painting class and finally painted. I haven't done that for two years. I made a yellow peony.
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