February 13. Yay. Great. All I feel like doing is lying around eating. I'm getting a belly. I quit worrying about my diet.
Went to church this A.M. because it's at least a spiritual outlet. Aside from some monotonous hymns...to be expected...I found First Baptist on Burrard to be renewed by cogent spiritual activism. They were great! Really!
They were helpful, but I still feel I have very little purpose. I don't feel called. There's no other activity that is easy for me to do, besides writing. Everything else takes me forever, and is really hard. It's like I don't know any other language of work beside the English language, and have as much aptitude for learning as those folks who take ten years to learn languages and are still largely incomprehensible cause it's not in their brain/nature/anything at all. But I forced myself, and so...I can teach to a certain extent.
Well, I like to drink tea. What to write? Lately I had nothing left to write. Must be the dark night of the writer's soul. Winter.
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