Ah sweet unconciousness

What do you get when you take a very tired thirtysomething divorcee, move her from a midlands cow school to the east coast, get her to move apartments twice in one year, give her a shitty job with an abusive, mentally ill boss, then get her to quit that job because some inner voice tells her to and because she simply can’t take it anymore (and she is suddenly the new owner of a certain sum of money)? Oh, and get her to somehow finish her second book manuscript in the middle of this chaos, meet a cute English guy who moves back to England permanently, and find out that her soul doesn’t have a face but is by-god trying to make a new one? Answer to these questions and many more: this blog.

It will probably be less focused than the last one (or at least will lack the theme that I tried hard but failed to adhere to). The bitterness, disappointment, and general malaise will still be found aplenty. There may be moments of fun and happiness and delight, as I have those moments too. Moments where I talk about my weirdo spiritual path. There may be little odes to my crushes still. There may be recipes. Basically it will be like every other blog: someone who didn’t get enough attention when she was little will beg for it now. And will keep on talking even if you aren’t listening anymore.

I’m about to be unemployed and my he’snotreallymyboyfriend boyfriend is going to live in another country, the country he was born in and has been living in for the last three or so months. I will have time on my hands . And a need to emote, I guess. I won’t be able to afford therapy.

A note on the title: it is the title of a Rilke poem translated by Stephen Mitchell. There have been many leaps of god which have landed me here, whatever here is:

Imaginary Career

At first a childhood, limitless and free
of any goals. Ah sweet unconsciousness.
Then sudden terror, schoolrooms, slavery,
the plunge into temptation and deep loss.

Defiance. The child bent becomes the bender,
inflicts on others what he once went through.
Loved, feared, rescuer, wrestler, victor,
he takes his vengeance, blow by blow.

And now in vast, cold, empty space, alone.
Yet hidden deep with in the grown-up heart,
a longing, for the first world, the ancient one…

Then, from his place of ambush, God leapt out.