when i am unsure of the present, i dive into my memories, and i just float there, to where the water is warm and calm. i think that's why i reminisce so much and why i have a hard time letting go of the past. because it is tangible; i can see it and feel it, because it already exists. the thing with the future is anything can happen. in some ways that is refreshing and hopeful, but in other ways, it's almost paralyzing, because anything can happen. even the worst possibilities.

right now, i feel like i am hanging by a single strand of hope. i am holding on so tightly, but my hands are starting to hurt and i am losing my grip. i keep thinking maybe somebody will pull me up, soon. any minute now, somebody will approach the cliff and grab hold of me, and lift me, and my feet will be back on the ground, ready to run.

it's not a desperate state i'm in, not at all. that's why i feel kind of funny even talking about it. life is good. i can't complain, and if i do, i am a blind fool, because clearly i am so lucky.

it's just that i don't know where i'm going. i don't feel like i'm headed anywhere, and that is a foreign, frightening feeling for someone who is always on the go. today paul asked me what were my goals. where i want to be in 6 months, 5 years, and where i see my life headed in the long run. i just stared at the e-mail dumbfoundedly, because i honestly don't know. in 6 months, i want to be living somewhere i like, doing something i enjoy. my lease is up in august and my roommate is moving to new york. i could stay living in LA and working at my job, maybe, but i could also be living somewhere else, doing something else. it all depends on factors beyond my control, decisions that have yet to be made, and a whole list of if x, then y equations.

and all i can do is wait. and wait. and wait.

while waiting, i just repeat over and over in my head, "remember what matters. everything will be okay. it all works out in the end," and hope the clichés are right.