When I wrote my most recent post I did not expect any change within the situation to occur. At least not so quickly. I don’t expect anyone within my guesthouse to read my blog, and if they do I don’t know who does. I mostly write this stuff to vent and keep up with friends back home. I am, however, terribly vain and love the attention when people do read my writing. More reasons to do more of it. I received a large number of comments (mostly through direct e-mail) encouraging me to stick with it since I’ve only been here a short while. It is true, and so I have. But I’ve also taken efforts to expand my horizons. I hope good things will come of this.

Since my last post a few members of the guest house have taken extra effort to say hello and be friendly with me. A specific group of awesome Swedes come to mind, but they were never at fault to begin with. That just makes them double awesome. If you guys read this, thank you. There are other groups as well. People who were awesome have continued to be more awesome, so if they felt bad I am sorry and really happy I know you. The situation in question is beginning to resolve itself, but through a separate set of circumstances. I’m not certain what will happen, but one way or another it will resolve.

This is post script. It shouldn’t even be here. It’s separate from the message and tone of my post. I know myself. I know who I am. I know who I want to be. I know how I act. I don’t always like it. Memory is a tricky thing to rely on so it is not always accurate. But here I go.

I feel there was a time I embraced myself. Insecure as I have always been (though would like not to be) I was goofy, fun, and lively with disregard for who might judge me. I went out and embraced every day. Took every hit on the chin and kept churning forward. I kept my head high and tried my best. Maybe that was a dream. Maybe I was never like that. But that’s how I want to be. I never want to worry. I want to take all things in stride. I want to push forward and embrace my life wherever it takes me. But There’s just enough crap in my life to hold me back from doing that. I need to sever the dead weight and nourish the healthy aspects.

I also understand now why many writers are alcoholics. This is much easier after knocking a few back.

It was brought to my attention again today that I think too much. Sadly, not about anything of importance. I worry, I fluster, I pout… I act very unmanly. I live greatly in my head for what might be rather than what is. Especially if I am not given specifics. I like details and I like to know. But I do sometimes (often) worry too much and have trouble letting things go. I know that about myself. And I’m finding the more I write the better I become about managing the parts of myself I don’t like. No question I need to write more. I just hope my writing is worth reading.


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