When I was writing, I decided to direct my writing to someone who can be a good friend. Who better to choose than someone on the other side of the planet?:
Bryan,
I mentioned before you left that I wanted us to be pen pal buddies. You're completely capable of writing blog-like letters; would you mind if I write to you by hand?
I'm so glad that you're enjoying Thailand. I think I would experience a similar shock to yours - attempting to wind down from constant work, a heightened ever-present anxiety for tasks to do - if I try doing that at home, I couldn't go to sleep at night. I'm going to find myself in Thailand (among other countries) near this time next year. Though nothing has been decided yet, I want to take some time in between my studies to do some exploring. Maybe teach English in Saigon for a year. Grad school can wait.
I crashed the TCLT "graduation" party. There were some awkward moments (like me stumbling into their quiet circle), but as they unfurled themselves from their experience together, they infected me with this intense connection and mature kindness. It's safe to say that I don't usually experience this. In fact, most of the time, I'm not socially intact enough to hold a conversation for more than a couple of minutes within large groups of people. My anxiety prevents me from staying in the moment. I guess now I'm closer to identifying what I'm innately seeking out in people and myself. A true experience.
Have you tried reading the books I gave you? I know that both Kundera and Murakami are heavy reading. Miranda July is much lighter - mainly because her book is composed of short stories. I recently started reading a book on traffic psychology called Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (And What It Says About Us). I read it off a friend's coffee table months ago (you know I can't resist picking up a book), and was intrigued by what it had to say about the connection between your personality and the way you deal with traffic.
I want to be where you are. I'm plagued by anxiety and stress and yet I keep on taking more work and projects to do, because I don't know how to survive otherwise. I'm still lonely in the presence of others, and I still grapple with nostalgia and fantasies of anything to relieve the loneliness. I don't keep the same friends for very long; at some point, I feel compromised, so I stop continuing contact. Just recently, I stopped talking to everyone I know and have met at ASF.
In moments of sheer fear and anxiety, I kick myself to try and get help. I know I need to - I respond really well in contact with someone who can get me to talk. And as loose as a connection as ours, I would like to just be able to write to you. You don't have to respond. A one-way correspondence can be... medicating. Let me write, and reach out.
Thank you,
Cindy
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