I want to want to do something.
I want to do something.

I feel like less and less of a person when I'm not making anything. If there's no evidence, what will happen to me?

Granted, day in and day out, we are always making ourselves.

This morning, Erik and I went out and saw the sun rise from hills way steeper than we were able to keep dragging our running feet along. I came home and ate two eggs and an apple (actually, an egg, an apple, and another egg,) ironed a shirt, could not find enough wrapping paper for the present I tried to wrap, and left for work. I read from Borges' Personal Anthology while waiting for the bus, on the bus, and on a bench in the sun until it was time. Our restaurant was mentioned in the local paper today, so we weren't sure if there would be a big rush or what. It was mostly normal. I joked with a man in a very nice suit and cufflinks. I don't think he got my jokes.

I said something on facebook this afternoon about feeling inferior when everyone is finishing semesters and graduating and graduating with extra degrees and starting vacations. I don't know if that's true. I mostly wanted to say that I feel unaccomplished because everyone is always saying how proud they feel and I imagine it makes other people feel unsure of themselves, as it does me, sometimes.

Actions are more satisfying than reasons, I think, when it comes to self-description, as there is less room for interpretation. It makes me feel like at least I exist - and here's proof! Somewhat like those moments when I've been lost in imagining other people's thoughts for so long that the sudden reemergence of my physical self into my mind is explosive and it's hard to contain the fast-breaking knowledge that I am a person and I live in me.

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