Day 0128

Woke up at midday, disoriented. Want to know that I'll be in one place for a while, but I won't.

Cafe for lunch, but what minimal vegetarian options were on the menu weren't actually available. Tortilla it was, again.

Stroll and sit and drink at the park. Blue sky, bright green leaves, fountains, and yet mild sense of panic. All the ingredients for a pleasant ttime, but most of all I felt anxious and unsure. No doubt with time I will just reformulate it in my memory to be the perfect holiday my photos depict, as is tradition.

The worries surface when I lack pressing exigencies to distract myself from the ever-present existential turmoil that is constantly rumbling somewhere inside. Dreadful sleeping habit doesn't help.

As someone said to me tonight, there needs to be a challenge. Spain is too easy, the culture is familiar, the people look familiar, the things to do are the things I always do.

Focus on the small things. Don't try to get the big picture. No one actually particularly cares about you or thinks about you, so do what you want. It doesn't matter what other people think. Being positive is a choice and it's the only one that makes sense.

That said I'm sick of my meaningless empty art and wish I had something to say or feeling to express (other than ennui). It's all been said by Tolstoy in What is Art.