Coupledoom as an alternative to mediocrity.

I finally got the annual letter written: But sent it to 2 boys this time. Results to follow:

Prespeach--

I've been procrastinating sending these out, so tonight I have to finish what I have started despite my mood --it's rich and aweful. And I'll tell you why - I'm kind of caught up in a kind of annual-semi-annual crisis mode that happens about this time of year - after spending another holiday alone and new years wishing I could be on some ski hill or dep in the middle of nowhere with the love of my life - speaking some exotic language and sharing good books. ah. sigh. Instead life seems to be the culmination of waht I do, an area of increasting tension between my ideals and my general sanity. Oi. That's enough about that.

Have I mentioned I'm mad at the world? For a few things -war, objectification, lies, power, environmental destruction, refuge camps and a society ruled by MTV. If I only didn'thave an over active brain I could be so much happier. I wourl dbe happy with the domesticity and probably be a farmer's wife with twins on the way and a healthy social life with the local church. And as much as that makes me cringe idealologically... I'd be happy. And where can I make the worlds of want and need meet in the middle? Are only the dull satisfied or only the wise? Trying to do too much , I know. But there is much to do --and why should I try to live a quiet life?

What am I doing for an artistic outlet? Writing -- Perhaps. But sporatically and ingeniously and horridly contradictory. I'm going to write this longness and nothing will come. Or perhaps eventually. I use writing to solve the multiple problems and the art becomes tainted. I use information to augement my life and the information becomes emotional. The focus is everywhere.

Somedays, and like tonight, all I want to do is escape and touch the ocean. Or see big trees or sit in the desert and feel the heat from the daylight fade on the sand as the sunsets 365 degrees and in the landscape you can see the shape of the earth. Knowing that whatever comes next is ok.

TO the BOYS:

How are you? I've been meaning to send letters for weeks it seems and now it's beyond midnight and I am giving in to another restless night and accomplishing the task. I've been thinking it would be interesting to read the letter I wrote you last year --to see if my January's are typically a time of damned self-crisis or if it happens sporatically. Maybe it's best not to recognize a pattern and prediction. Nevertheless - it's that time. THat "what to do with my life that's purposeful" time. Perhpas this is why I pick up and move ever 6 months because I sense the answer and incorrectness as a void. Something about the current void though --has put into question theatre- something I depended on, and geography-citizenship-scholarship-art. I've been losing faith in the things that are important - without replacement of another value. And this troubles me. And my cherished naivette. I wonder will it wash over me or take me down with it or will I float. It's difficult to ride this through as I'm defining my own values for grad school applications - which don't seem quiet as important at the moment.

but when I really think about it -none of it really matters - the universe sense.

And what I really want to do next is dreadfully common place in a very good way, which is fall in love. Find a companion. Really just someone to fight the world with me and make me forget taht there even is a big bad world out there. TO hibernate with. A muse. An intellectual equal. Some kind of human transcendance of all the chaos. And whil this wish is not someone to save me from the faults and imagined imperfections -but really a distraction. Someone to bring me back to the human reason of existance. Coupledoom as an alternative to mediocrity.

Shit.

I wish I knew how to want less and accomplish more. But such is life.