Ani Was Writing

   I am a little lost in my own little world.    A lot of my life is shifting and (hopefully) becoming something better than I can imagine right now. As this is happening, a lot of my current life is starting to feel like a weight pressed against me. Feelings that I used to repel are wiggling through cracks in my heart and mind. People who once walked on me are now grating and hurting me. People I used to have low expectations and hopes for are aggravating me.    I want to break free. I  want to loose what I feel is weighing me down.    Is this what change feels like? Like the tension between a weight and the desire to push it off? Like the last moments of air when one is underwater? Like the strain of a chain pulling against your waist?    It's painful and disorienting right now. I am not sure how to get out of this. I just know I need to break free. I need to go through the change. 

RECANI 002 Location: Various coastlines on Canlanma during Forgiven Era Description: Small turtle species measuring 7.5 cm when fully grown. Shell is a delicate flower in various colors that hardens into scales when hit or dropped. They have no visible eyes or mouth. Current population is 100. No known deaths from poachers or predators. Scholar's Notes: Flowering Turtles are among the smallest and most adored turtles on Canlanma. They are one of the newest species to appear on the planet, so their origin is still a mystery. Obvious assumptions among entities on Canlanma state they were made by the Creator, but the records of the Creator will not comment on that assumption. Young Flowering Turtles have white flesh and white flowers that gain color and variation depending on diet and location as they age. They live a short life of 10 cycles before dying and leaving their hardened flowers behind. Due to their small size and short life, Eulim experimenters are unable to integrate them ...

RECANI 001 Location: Southern Rocky Mountains near Colorado Springs, Colorado, United States of America during the Forlorn Era Description: Humanoid approximately 305.7 km in height buried in the Southern Rocky Mountains near the lower half of Colorado. No distinct features detected at this time. Object remains sedated under the mountain range. Predicted 71 years remaining before awakening. Scholar's Information: Long before the native human species made their journeys, a [REDACTED] entity was thrown into the planet. The [REDACTED] appears to be smaller than its peers. In the War of the Universe, it was a civilian caught in the crossfire. This entity has no recorded name among the Records of this universe. Maybe from another String intertwined with this one. Entity has a strange connection to this planet and its String, though any notes on this are not in the Records. May be tied to a human entity living on the planet with a 71% stability. Possible interference from Guides. May be ...

   I've been going back and forth with my routine this week. It doesn't help that I have been on vacation and have had way too much time to slack off. It is much easier for me to have a routine when there is a solid structure to work around.   "Maybe you need a new solid structure to set yourself on." Renegade suggests. I didn't realize she was nearby. I take in a deep breath and catch the smell of herbs. It helps to clear my head slightly. "I think you are right, Renegade. I need a solid routine or ritual to center around. But what could I use?"   "What about a time of day?" Renegade says, "A certain time of the day where everything is usually the same."   I think to my normal schedule. In the morning, things are mellow until twenty minutes later when I am running out the door to work. The afternoons are also work-centered, so those are both off the table. At night, I'm usually sleeping, so that only leaves a certain time of the ...

   A new journal.   It can truly be a balm for the soul to unwrap the plastic fil, break the book open, and breathe in the new scent. Then to put fresh ink on is a new wonderful feeling. A smooth glide of the pen as it touches paper brings me hope.    All of this feels so trivial when it is a worn out journal. One that has been through the dust, the tears, and the other physical and emotional turmoil of life. The aged interior of an old journal makes a new journal seem like a transition or a rebirth. A new journal is a territory that must be explored, mapped down to the smallest thought, and studied with the stoic nature of an academic.    And then I stop and stare at my work and wonder how I will feel about it at the end of it. Will I have the same wonderlust? Will life pull me through the proverbial mud and my journal will feel as jaded as I will feel. It will be a mystery for now. Until then, let me press my pen to the new journal page.