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February 9, 2009

I am restless today. Maybe it’s the weather– the sky doesn’t know whether to rain or to be sunny, and the clouds are moving through as fast as they do in a desert storm. This morning it was raining. When I got out of class, after planning to go to the beach all morning, the sun had come out. Beach plans cancelled, I came home to make some muffins instead. Now the clouds are back, and the wind has picked up even more. The palm trees are tossing their leaves around like they’re wrestling with something big that I can’t see. My heater is making that “THERE’S WIND IN HERE” noise that it does when it’s windy (sometimes it even blows the pilot out and I get home and it’s freezing). The sky is grey. Monotonous grey. Grey for miles. I wonder where that patch of sun went, and when it will be back.

So maybe I’m restless because Los Angeles is restless. The trees are restless and the clouds are restless and since I usually pick up my moods from my surroundings anyway, this is what I feel. This grey for miles is pressing down on this already-under-pressure city making the pressure almost unbearable. And the wind is picking up even more. It feels like the end of a yin. When it can’t get dark any more and there is only one direction to go and that is back to light. The pendulum, swinging as far as it can in one direction. The wind picks up and the pressure builds and if there were an orchestra playing a soundtrack to this weather it would be building it’s crescendo into a massive big booming noise like an orgasm and then there will be silence. A vacum of space and sound. Gravity lets go. The bliss of weightlessness. And then it kicks back in, and the pendulum starts moving in the other direction, and the orchestra starts playing a quieter tune, one with less emotion, because this is just the start of the journey again.

Or maybe it’s because I’m late for class and I know I should be there already but my muffins are still cooking and I have my priorities straight.

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