Sometimes I think that I shouldn't be a writer, that it is just too much trouble to worry all the time. I'm just so uncertain about it all, because I don't think it is ever anything anyone is ever certain about, or at least the smart people who realize that not everything, or hardly anything, makes any sense. I also think that there is no "right" or "wrong" way to write. This is just insanity. I am really grateful that there are so many different ways to say the same things. If I was a writing teacher I would never tell them not to do anything, except maybe use cliches, but even those are good. I love using cliches in my work in different sarcastic ways. I realize that I sort of have to be a writer because I couldn't ever stop writing or reading. It makes a lot of sense to me, and even if I'm a "bad" writer I shouldn't really care. I miss being younger, like in high school, and not caring at all what people thought about my writing. It made me feel better about the world around me, like I could create it the way I wanted it to be in the first place. I'm not really sure how I want to write other than the way that makes sense to me at the time. I change my mind a lot because I am a Gemini and I think it is just part of my nature to change my mind about everything all of the time. I have a hard time trusting people who believe they have an identity, or that they are some person. I haven't really thought that I've had an identity since high school when I was sure that I was punk. I'm not really so certain of anything now and I feel really balanced because of that. I also think people are lonely and sad for a majority of the time and I wonder what makes them that way. A lot of people blame it on technology, and I think that's some of it, but I think people were lonely and sad before computers as well. It was just that they had something else to make them feel that way.
As I was waiting for the Q train to Manhattan last night there was an older man (what did he look like? I don't really remember) and he was playing traditional Russian music on an accordion. He had an empty peanut jar to collect money in and my roommate said, "It is as if he's not really expecting much to come from that." I just thought that maybe he just eats a lot of peanuts. The entire platform of people watched him and maybe we felt somewhere else, somewhere special, not waiting anything anymore. Another man (he looked different, but how?, brown hair, bigger face) started to dance, he didn't seem present. I don't know if he was drunk, or just somewhere else. He almost seemed as if he was dancing with someone not present. Like he time traveled somehow, like he made himself somewhere that mattered. I wanted to know who he was dancing with, and who he was when he was dancing with that person. I think we can time travel. I am so glad that we can time travel.