April 28

What is this thing? And if I could have it all the time, would I even want it? Is reality being wrapped in rapture all of the time, or is it the push and flow that we see usually, the screaming, the disgust, the symbiosis and the going your own ways. Maybe this is where freedom comes. 75% of the time you're mad at, disgusted by, tired of, or not thinking about your other and you're free to live your own life. 25% you're in love, and this adds that missing richness and means that you're not living life just for yourself, normalizes you, binds you into society and removes you from all the foggy and corroded parts of human nature.
But then, what is love? Is the love I'm looking for mere toleration? This love goes on and on, I can tolerate him, I'm comfortable with him, until I don't want him to leave, and then that is real love? Or more love, the seed, developed into fruit. Love cannot just be planted and grow -a full grown tree would die. The root system is critical.
But to accept this and surrender myself to this feels like I am letting myself die. But it also feels like growing up. How many ideals have I been coaxed to shed since coming to Senegal, since seeing life lived for survival and not idealistic self pleasure? Coaxed, willingly though regretfully, back into society, letting go of the wild nature artist lover self, letting go of my child. It does feel more comfortable, more stable, more normal. Less life on the anxious edges of elation and depression.
In Dakar I stood atop the light house, waves crashing below, like Ariel, and yet not a palpitation of the heart -not a cell in my body responding, calling -moving or wanting to move out there and become one with it. But I went home and cooked dinner for and had conversations with other, normal people.
I am loosing myself, the child that runs through the woods, the reckless artists who sits socially spaced out, forming ideas and running out to manifest them. A member of a community, a moving life form. I might be clinging to myself as a child...but would he want this life for me, this ceasing of "wearing my heart on my shoulders"?
(continue!!!!)