Dreaming and Doing

48 days and counting, almost 8 weeks.

I have not learnt a new skill, mastered a new language, deep cleaned my apartment, gotten super fit etc.

I have, cooked, eaten, slept, worked out and lived.

Which is harder? People talk about grief and depression, I feel bad for them. I am sad, but not depressed, I am upset but not angry. When I moved to SF I was depressed. When my relationship ended I was depressed, and battled. But now? I am just sad. We are a people on a single planet with no empathy. We live in a marvellous world and we barely look up. We value experiences as much as we can post a video or photo. We live to work, not work to live.

I don’t want that. I made these choices a long time ago, what I wanted and what I value. This has made it clearer. I still don’t miss TV, or more stuff, oh, I miss the camaraderie around it, but I don’t miss the desire to see what happens. Most stuff seems pointlessly cruel and mean spirited.

I miss having a partner with me, to cook with, to do things with, to talk over ideas with. To hold hands with. To go on walks with, debate what to cook, and disagree with.

SF is prettier without all the traffic and rush and clusterness of people, but now also highlights the intense unequal distribution of wealth. So many have nots, due to so many factors, and everyone wants an easy answer. But, unless the USA starts helping out with mental health and loses the ‘pull you up by the bootstraps’ scenario/dream, it is not happening.