Post 701

So sad that my 700th post had to be a sad one. But this is not exactly a "happy" journal. Apart from my shopping splurges and occasional yelps for finally getting the job and a few vacation trips here and there, this is not exactly what I call a happy journal. But still, I would not want to report on someone's death, especially someone who did no wrong. He was not known in the tabloids as a druggie, junkie, excessive anything. He was very private. To be so private and then end up like this, mysteriously dead is sad.

I have just been in this funk since the news. I was in my usual "Anita" funk, but this just ate the cake. I haven't been able to do anything constructive. It's this kind of depressing feeling that not even shopping can solve. I have so many plans of what I would like to do, the kind of work I would prefer to do and I just end up doing work that I don't enjoy and in doing it, I just hope that each day swings by faster so that no one will notice that I do not know how to do this, and I cannot do this. But I still harbor some measure of hope that I will one day get to do what I love. How long should I keep hoping for that and when will I live and accept the present.

What is it that we do every day? Day by Day. We try to exist and pretend that our existence means something, and we are faced with pursuing our dreams and to try to chase down that dream, we call it existing. And sometimes this takes our whole life, a brief part of our lives before we move to something else, or just becomes us. I don't know what it is that I need to do, to not just exist but to make my existence mean something, and become part of a much bigger picture.

I will try to get back to simple melancholic Anita mode.