One of the reasons I haven’t been writing is because I’ve been in a weird place lately. I’ve started trying to find the meaning in what I am doing. It’s harder than I imagined. I’ve waffled at exploring the culture, and researching Arab history. I know less Arabic than I did in July. I can’t seem to make simple things work, things that should be so easy, and were easy for me back in the US, are the biggest challenges I’ve faced in years.

All of this has made me a bit quieter, a bit more introspective. It’s also made me try to search out meaning in other places.

One of the things I keep returning is Oblivio. Michael Barrish had the first blog I ever read, as my first blog love, his posts are more literary than worldly. He updates rarely these days, but still, when I’m struggling for perspective I always reread him. At one point in my life, years ago, when I was going through romantic issues, I had a sex dream about him. I still haven’t figured out why.

All the same, he’s got the right blend of truth and lies that fascinates me. “Potatoes” is the one entry I keep returning to; I find it comforting when I start to get overwhelmed by life as it unfolds.

“I have to do something different, but I don’t know what. It may be everything or it may be something small that changes everything. I remember standing in the room where the coats were, debating what to do. Change is pressed upon one. That was her translation from the French. The question was about change, about whether change is possible, and she quoted this from the French. When she arrived, she smiled and waved to me. Had she come over and talked, I would have welcomed it, but since she didn’t, I stayed where I was. It wasn’t a game. I was sitting on the couch, and there was room to my left, although in fairness to her, there were also some pillows there, which she would have had to move aside. Later, as people took their seats at the table, I saw an open seat beside her and almost sat down but instead went to the kitchen to get my potatoes. By the time I finished transferring the potatoes to a serving dish and placing the dish on a side table, the seat was taken. Each thing has its momentum. In the room with the coats I decided she wasn’t who I wanted, and vice versa, and that I would leave. I may have been wrong, but one must decide based on what one knows. You cannot divide yourself into two people and live two lives to see which is better. There is another world, she said, again quoting the French, evidently she spoke French, but it is in this one.”

My other long-standing infatuation is Riley Dog. So world, if I can’t share my stories from here right now because I’m blocked, you can at least be reading what I’ve been reading.