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September 12, 2019

Sat in room agonizing about what to do, getting sicker and sicker with worry about leaving the house to do the same thing I do every day.

Drove to the beach just to break the pattern. Crowded and horrifying but glad to break it.

Spotted the trail sign on my way back, pulled over, half on a whim. Walked out to the diamond sea. Thought of how much more alone I am now than I used to be here. Why I don’t really feel like I’m here a lot of the time.

Walked back to my car thinking of the woman trying to create a pocket of Hell at the only job I haven’t hated. Feel exiled.

Put on the Shins 2001 album, which is a very SF 2012 thing to do, and left my phone and watch in car to charge. Sat on my hood listening to my speaker and watching the ravens hop around. Then sat on curb, watching the ravens. One pecked at my car and kept coming back after I told it to fuck off. Couldn’t help but smile.

Most of what I value the most I don’t predict and have no way of knowing it’ll happen. I’ve been scared to go outside for years, but when I break the pattern of doing very specific things, it makes the day longer and more precious, and it matters less if things go exactly as planned. Seems pointless to go anywhere because when deciding to go, I don’t necessarily know there will be big birds hopping around, being entertaining, with air swirling around that’s quiet and somewhat still.