I have almost no awareness
But the little I have causes me
No end of awkwardness

To know how little you feel
About how much you don’t know
Is a cycle without an end

A loop that extends further
With each day but is beyond
Any prospect of interruption

The bad news is the good however
For the weighted shadow
Remains always dimmed.

Last night I stayed up way too late. It was a selfish and immature indulgence that I am regretting today. I believe that I've had a dream about the same shop I was in last night. When I was a teenager, we lived in a small town. To get to this shop, I had to walk quite a ways out into the country. The door was open if I remember correctly, and there's something interesting about the floor. I have the impression that there were reeds or woven mats lying on top of the tile. Inside the shop it's very bright. Workers were pouring honey, or maybe they were candles, I saw a woman cap off a jar with a thin sheet of paper that was able to seal the contents of the jar off. I put some things in my cart, the store changed as I walked through it.

In my previous dream there were quantities of fresh fruits and vegetables in baskets. This time I put my hand on an oversized box of chocolates. I remember putting the box back, checking the price, it was summer in my dream, so Christmas had been celebrated months away, but here were chocolates that had been marked down after the holiday. My purchases came to sixty-five dollars. I was alarmed by this amount, then recklessly decided to get the chocolates along with my other selections. I left the shop, found myself in a house that turned out to be some sort of lodging for the sailing community, and I wanted a warm drink, it was cool now, but as I walked along the shore, I heard a man yelling, and saw my youngest daughter climbing over the side of a boat that was leaving.

Screaming her name, I started running towards her. She waved to me from the boat, I don't remember what happened after that, but she and I somehow ended up in a room with some other women. They told us about the house/hotel I had been in earlier. We were offered a selection of muffins, but I thought I should stick to tea. We were covered in rough towels or blankets. The air was cool, misty, damp, I wasn't scared, more uneasy, and I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I think at this point we opened my box of chocolates. My surroundings changed again, without warning, and suddenly I was in a large, old-fashioned room with carpeting. An older man and some women were with me.

I had more tea, we passed the chocolates around, and there was a discussion about them that I remember contributing to. They weren't as good as I had hoped they would be although the others seemed to be enjoying them more than I did. I was no longer with my daughter, when I woke up, I wasn't sure what had happened to her. The memory of that shop, the light and brightness of the yellow walls that are steaked with golden sunbeams, the smells of clean living, sustainable lifestyle products, the people, they seemed kind. I have memories of the baskets, and vividly colored fruits next to arrangements of vegetables that were artistic, inviting, and more real than they are in real life.

Perhaps there was refrigeration, I don't remember seeing any glass cases though. The people seemed genuinely interested in me, I was chatting with someone in line, then I had the shameful gigantic box of chocolates that I picked up, put back, and then tried to justify to myself. Why was my daughter climbing into a moving boat? Who were the people that helped her, and me? How did I get from the marina into the room that seemed to belong to an outdated mansion with strange inhabitants? Why do I keep having dreams about this store that I know doesn't really exist? I slept until almost noon today. Yesterday in real life I went to the store, bought a box of gluten and dairy free chocolate chip cookies for my boss, did that have anything to do with my dream?

Friends of mine were talking on Twitter last night. I'm hoping I can meet a friend when I go to Minnesota for my cousin's graduation. She's a very kind person, I introduced her to someone I know slightly, and it was gratifying to see that the introduction was accepted. Another friend of mine lives down in Florida. She's invited me to come and live with her, and if she didn't have cats, I would move without thinking twice about it. I deserve a certain level of affection from people in my life, from my children, I could probably expect it from my spouse, but he's less and less a part of my life, more of a tangential being whose presence I have to tolerate, and make the best of until I can find a way to escape.

Love is such a comfort to me, and it's just crazy how people I've never met can know me in ways I don't think people who know me in real life do. A very close friend of mine called me earlier this week. In the past she's said that I am one of the most real people she knows. She is also very real. I follow an account on Twitter that references the idea that real recognizes real, and I believe that's true. These women I was talking to on Twitter last night, I know I could go to their homes, and the invitation to Manila is mine in real life even though I have never met Dr. G because she recognizes that I am real. We met during a discussion about death and dying.

I shared the story of how I went to see my neighbor after she fell. She died a few days later, and I told the group how we had a chance to express our love for each other, and I didn't go to her funeral because I had already made peace with her soul. I still think about her often. The group didn't put me down for making my neighbor clean out her closets the day before she died. It gave us something to do, and I hope the memories of her giving me the embroidered dish towels that her family won't pass on will stay with me until I reach death's door. Another woman who has become a Twitter friend of mine is into music. Last night she sent me a song, it came out of nowhere, the song is a favorite of mine, and it seemed so unlike her that I was puzzled.

To return the favor, I sent a song back to her. This went on for a while. I have a couple friends that I exchange music with, and someday I want to travel to Barcelona and Milan to meet these men and women who have become my song friends. A pharmacist friend of mine introduced me to some of her friends. I find Twitter just fascinating, how you can know a fact about someone, but not who they are until you read a tweet that reveals another facet of their lives. A couple times I've found myself in the middle of fights between couples, those are unpleasant, I don't mean to start anything, and I'm not on Twitter for that, but jealous people will seek to find things that support their ideas even though they may not have a strong foundation.

Two nights ago I was joking about changing my Twitter bio. I hate auto DM spam so I made a comment about that. A friend of mine said I needed to mention something about my tendency to favorite tweets. I hadn't realized that was something people noticed about me. I tweeted something about it, and it opened this really neat discussion about favoriting, why people favorite things, and I'm happy that a trademark habit of mine is making people feel better, and has influenced others to start starring more tweets. I follow a couple people with the same name, and seeing the different personalities interact with each other, it was just fun to see the back and forth, and hear what others had to say.

My friend the sports writer coined the term 'The Jessica Trifecta'. I took a screen shot of that tweet. The Jessica Trifecta is when a tweet gets a favorite, a retweet, and a reply. The Twitter platform is so simple. Reply, favorite, retweet, those are the three things you can do, but it's so much richer and deeper than that. The way people can have conversations, tiny fragments of language encapsulated into a box whose outlines are barely visible. It's amazing to me how much you can pack into 140 characters. Just for fun I flipped back to my Twitter tab. Someone posted a tweet that said 'Trade him'. That's not very long, but it's clear, I know exactly what this person means, who he's talking about, and how he feels about the situation.

Yesterday I saw a guy telling people that he wanted to start following new people and ideas. I sent a tweet to him that didn't get a reply, but I hope that my question to him made him think a little. When I try explaining Twitter to others, a lot of the time I'm unable to explain how friendships develop because it really can be a situation where you retweet something someone tweeted, you follow them, they follow you, you introduce them to a few people that you know, and by the end of the week you're being broadcast as a part of a group of women who are changing the world. Twitter is a way to share things, but it's also a place I go where I feel very good about myself for the most part.

Twitter acknowledges my successes, responds to comments that I am feeling low, and the outpouring of love and acceptance is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. A friend who used to run a parody account now follows me under a different name. I like it when people sign off for the night or greet tweeps in the morning. I sent him well wishes, and ended my tweet with #LoveYou. He asked if I used that hashtag frequently, and I wasn't sure how to answer that because I have no way of measuring how many times I've typed that in the past. What's so gratifying to me is the number of men and women I've met who respect me on Twitter. I sent out a tweet telling people that I favorited their tweets because I wanted people to know that I had read their tweet, or I wanted to screw them.

That generated a few favorites, and some more comments. A woman sent me a tweet saying that she hoped I wanted to know her more intimately. She was joking, but I sent back a serious tweet because she needs more love in her life. I ride the edge of propriety at times, and I've picked up a few people who don't get that I'm a playful person, but I've gotten hundreds more who tell me that they love me, and even if it's a few meaningless keystrokes that they don't really mean, I think people do love me. There are probably guys out there whose thoughts I would rather not be associated with, it's just comforting to know that there are others whose arms are open without expectations of me giving them anything more than I have to give.

So far I'm half way through my journaling course, it's been such an incredible journey, I don't even know how to begin to explain the lighthearted hopefulness that's been seeping into my life. The friendships I've made, the new people I've met, the ideas that have come to me, the way I've been able to embrace things I hadn't before, the clarity I've been gifted with, the way it's changed my writing, how it's developed my characters. It's funny to me that on Twitter, I don't find a lot of the writing crowd very interesting where on here, I do. So I wonder, what makes people interesting, and if I think that everyone is interesting, what is it about the writing tweets that leaves me cold?

There are exceptions to the rules, some authors are extremely fun to follow and interact with, I'm thinking of several in particular so if you're on Twitter, and you're interested in following any of these men or women or groups, let me know, and I'll introduce you to anyone you'd like to meet. I've tried to get people to sign up with E2, so far the one person who created an account saw people in the catbox discussing the new user, that was a disheartening moment for me, but I'm glad that my friend gets that there are assholes everywhere. During our last conference call, E2 came up, our instructor posted a link to a daylog of mine on Facebook, I don't see E2 as a product that's easy to sell even though I believe in it mainly because E2 lacks confidence in itself.

I follow a lot of experts on Twitter, I recognize the tone when people who are experts lay information down. Self esteem, confidence in oneself, the ability to categorize your strengths, to avoid putting yourself down, or to believe that what others say of you has any power over you. This year has been liberating to me. I've doubted my self worth in the past. I'm no longer apologizing for who I am. I've grown past the idea that I need to respond to hurtful comments or talk to people who I don't like. A fundamental shift needs to occur before people can believe in themselves and others. On Twitter, I can be that light for many even though there is darkness in my own life.

I'm very cold today. Freezing despite my sweater, my blanket, my scarf that no one likes but has become..., my scarf is a real person to me. A friend I can hold, cry with, snuggle into, lose myself in, I clutch it like a security blanket, sleep with it, share secret fears, use it to cover myself, wash it carefully, mindful of the delicacy that has surprising strength. I had scarves in the past, a woman I worked with stole a favorite of mine, it's her loss though as I've moved on from cheap scarves to ones that can be passed down to future generations. I was so silly in the past. So enamored of the shiny cheap ready made money grabbers. I've moved past that towards items that can provide lasting value.

Now that I'm over the heavy stuff, I can share a new idea that yannmatin proposed. She said that I can print out my daylogs, and put them together into a journal type binding. I don't know why I don't think of things like this myself, it seems so obvious. I'm really excited about this new project, and I'm going to get a notebook that I can draw in because I've always wanted to be more artistic, and a fear of inadequacy has held me back earlier. My children are artistic and creative, I think I can learn and be taught, and if it isn't very good, it doesn't matter because I had fun doing it. I'm super stoked about this, and will let people know how I'm progressing. I pray that you will all have people in your life to love, support, encourage, and believe in you.

Take care,


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