cold

This will not be the happiest of updates.  Last night, still sick, I actually stabbed my journal while writing because I couldn’t get all my angst to quietly come out on the page.  Then I scribbled a big “F—!” on the bottom of the page and called it a night. I’m sick.  I’m worried.  I’m cold.  And I’m emotional.  Oy.  But let’s just take stock of what’s going on today: I can be positive, see: The snow is dancing in flurries.  Huge white snow bits are swirling outside the glass and laying themselves down on the ground, quiet and unassuming. …

journaling

I am getting to the end of the book in which I’m keeping my most recent journal.  It’s a dark green hard bound book with maroon corners and spine.  I bought it over a year ago in the part of Kolkata I personally refer to as Paper Town, a name given because I’m familiar enough with the city to know you can fulfill all your paper needs there and also because I’m not familiar enough to know the actual name of the district. I’ve been journaling since freshman year of college.  When I go back and read the entries of…