June twenty-three, Jamestown II base, Mars – Okay, trying to get back to the work at hand. I get so wrapped up in that Glendale story I forget I have a job to do here. It has been an unexpected development for me, this passion for writing fiction. A welcome relief from the duties of space, and our new settlement on another world which can sometimes be a little stressful. Not always easy living on other planets!
Writing seemed to open up doors for me that I never even knew existed. I have dabbled at fiction, and of course I have my advertising copywriting background which isn’t fiction, it was for real buck!
It was easy to see the value to ad copy work… but writing from Mars, what is the value in that? Earth drama writing from another world? You want to know? Well, it’ll costa ya pal! ha haa… sorry… couldn’t resist. It never fails to amaze me though… here I sit in a NASA habiPod on Mars and I can look up and see that star called Earth… and I make up stories about that world… and it just seems so strange, to be from there… and to be writing about a young woman’s journey on an Earth I haven’t seen in years. One of the unexpected perks of being an astronaut. You get to make up stories of those alien worlds you were once a part of.
Continue reading “I need a lube job.”
June 23, Glendale – I feel like an idiot. All this time I have tried to make something of my life. Something I could believe in, someone I could be proud of. And I look at my face in the mirror and think, “who is this person?” This one I loved, accepted… for I always accepted myself, good or bad. But look at me. My life has not amounted to anything really… I live out my days in this town, pretending I am someone… pretending I have a journey ahead that is important. And I am only fooling myself.
Depression? You want to talk about depression, I can tell you about depression. There is not any story there however. It is only me whining, complaining. Wishing I was something else besides this. This lonely, lost girl with way too many dreams, and way too few means. My expressions, these words, outer space, inner space, Earth, Mars, candy bars… they have no place on a big, huge world like this. A microbe I am. A tiny fly speck of existence amid so vast a throng of winners and beautiful and achievers and happy, exciting people, purposes, passionate presence. Me? I haven’t crossed Happy Street in so long, I am not even sure I remember what that word means, or where it goes.
Continue reading “worked all planets.”
Once upon a time, life was simple for me. I believed in life. I trusted what I was told. I had a direction. I had hopes. I was happy. Now? It is not simple, I don’t believe in anything any more, I trust nothing and my direction is lost. I sit in my apartment and write and barely even poke my nose out the door. The thing is, I am so at peace when I write. It is simple then. Then my existence is centered around the transcription of what my brain is saying, down on to words on flat surfaces. Symbols called letters. One after another… little squiggles… little shapes that somehow evoke a look, a sound in my mind and that is a “word” and the words make little choo-choo trains of words, that go round and round the tracks… and I guess I just love to watch the little choo choo go “chooooo-oo-0000 chooooooooo!” around the track.
Continue reading “in a strange, strange land.”
June Eighteen, Glendale – Yesterday was horrible. I cried, and wanted to die. Hatred was in me. I do not wantp to be in this life any more. I did my time, I served my sentence. Why am I still being held a prisoner by a rogue planet? Ey’rth is not a viable world why am I still here?
Not that I expect any answers. I used to expect answers… I used to believe that one day I would understand my own function in this thing… not any more. I expect misery now. Misery and depression and tears that never stop. Why? Because I am a bad little girl, I have a dark side, I do bad things. I scare men away. Even my girlfriends sometimes avoid me. “Stay away from Michelle, she is having one of her temper tantrums.” So, my friends stay away (all one of them), and men run screaming from me (yeah I wish, I would love to have a man avoiding me, it would tell me that I exist!). And I am alone and crying all over again, because I am a bad girl. Not the happy girl. Happy = nice. Bad = shopping.
Sorry… I don’t know what to write about anymore. Everything bores me. Space, colonizing Mars. So what. It is old hat we have been there so many times, you know there are creatures there, you know what I went through! Are you going to make me rehash everything, over and over again? Please, dear God no, don’t make me do that. Make me to be good. Make me to be sweet again, and not to hate. I am so much happier when like my world, my life, the toys I see around me. Oh for a new toy! Maybe that is all it is… I just don’t have any toys. Makes me wonder that men were my toys at one time. Or a girlfriend, as long as she swings that way. Do I play with people like little toy trains? Where does the coal go? Into their mouths? Open wide!
Continue reading “It has to be.”
Glendale, Mars – mission update. Well, everything seems to be going well for me. A new job, some new friends. I have even started macramé again. Life couldn’t be better, especially since I discovered the secret of making everything up, pretending, lying, acting like I am happy when I am actually miserable. I used to care about being honest with people, but why? Nasa isn’t even honest, so why should I be? It has been a real change for me, I used to think that being sincere and truthful with others was important. Not any more. I have learned that being a good liar is worth its weight in gold.
Continue reading “write something nice.”
So anyway… it was after I got back that they wanted to stay in touch as much now as when I was actually on the red planet. It was like… to Nasa… the missions never end… they keep watching us astronauts and studying us… waiting to see what space does after we return, so our lives, personally don’t always add up. They understood this, and that was the reason for the calls, and updates. The thing was…
they were pretty sure I was actually contacted by an extraterrestrial source of some form… and were very curious… so they followed me, studied and charted and always had their ways of keeping tabs. Somehow it all works out… it all comes out in the wash. I guess I didn’t plan on some wash cycles to go on this long… decades… centuries? Longer? Why was life so painful so often and yet I feel helpless to change a thing? That was the question burning in me. All I dreamed I did, and then some. All I saw… all I felt… everything I ever dreamed of
And then why am I still so… afraid of my own shadow. Continue reading “Waikiki wins again.”
Glendale, CA – June 13 – Hey just getting going here. At some point, it seems that the “rewards” of life fail to materialize, that you become more interested in the structures of existence. Science becomes more the preoccupation then, and all the rest. The objects and settings of our desires, those become more like photo albums. It can be depressing because you are leaving the general flow of society. And yet at the same time you are trying to honestly ask honest questions about life, existence, what it means to be a human being.
I seem fascinated by themes, simple common themes for some reason I can’ t explain. Like… take one word, like, um… say. The word “say”. That is a theme area related to communication, as I see it. Say, speak, talk, declare, announce, voice, evoke, etc. They are all communication voices, so there is the usual sense, that to talk is probably going to be something that makes sense, rather than something that sounds like pure gibberish. So, a theme like “say” can be a common sacred area between tribes, as long as everyone can agree on a thematic viewpoint of existence. And are willing to change and adapt that at any moment.
I am not in a great mood though either. And that is where the Tarot can really help… Continue reading “symphony”