Tag Archives: solitude

Today is December 17, 2014. I am alive and well.

Before I begin, I want to say happy Chanukah to all those that celebrate this holiday.

As a young girl, I use to climb trees and dream that I was orphaned and being raised by monkeys. A thick branch of tree held my small body. The tree was in the front yard of my Grandparent’s home. Grass coated the lawn. I watched my sisters play in a side bar of the lawn that was muddy. They were making dishes. Shape the mud and let it dry. Viola, you have a bowl. I had no desire to play with them.

The craving of alone-ness would follow me into adulthood. My friends understand that I have to drift away from conversation and coffees to spend time alone in my room for hours with Grams and Annie my only company.

During this time, I read, write, and dream. I will admit that some of my dreams are of posterity. It is tiring to live paycheck by paycheck. I was in Macy’s the other day, and got depressed. Not being able to shop is like a cat wanting catnip from a ball that has no holes; the best they can do is bat it around and wish. The most I can do is try on clothes, admire them,wish, then return the shirts to the hangers from which they came.

I just spent all the money I was going to spend on Andrew, my new beau, on Annie. Annie had an upper respiratory infection. Cat visit plus $66 for the antibiotic. I nearly sat down and tapped the floor as if summoning a genie with a pocket full of gold. Chanukah is here. I am armed with a card for Andrew. I give him time, which I hope is a gift.

Happy holidays to all. May the New Year bring everything you dreamed of creating or having.

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