The Island of Lost...

I wasn't really motivated but rather less disinclined to not do anything. (Did I say that right?) I've been sorting through things, trying to tidy up, throw things out. It has always been hard for me to just toss things aside... to get rid of things... because these were things that I could use... at some point... but never did. I also felt as though I didn't want to just throw things out that someone else could use, or that could be recycled at some point in the near future, or that would just end up sitting in a landfill for eternity. Now... I find that I don't really care as much. My imprint upon the earth is so tiny... so minute, even in the big eternal scheme of things, that my contribution to the landfill is ... peanuts compared to probably the other 99% of people who purport to care about the earth. And... I would hazard a guess that those people that purport to care don't pay recycling fees and garbage fees and property taxes, and... But I digress. What was I writing about? Oh... tidying up.

The other day when I ended up sorting through boxes of books, I found one that I had bought eleven years ago. Mom didn't get out and about much and for years, I used to Christmas shop and pick up things for both of us to give as gifts. And, yes, I even bought stuff for me. That year, I had picked up some books... of all things. This book is the one that I had asked her if I should wrap it up from her to me. I don't remember if I wrapped Christmas presents that year. I just know that I never read it. When I found it in that box, there was no emotion... just that memory. I think I remember crying over the book at some point years ago, but I don't remember when.

The book was "The Island of Lost Maps". I know that it sounded interesting at the time and that I have always had a thing for maps. Anyways, I started reading it that night I found it, but didn't get very far into it. Is it that my eyes are weary  ... or that they no longer work properly, or is it that I have no desire to read, or that the words no longer interest me...  I don't know. I remember when I was younger, in my teens and twenties, I used to read books into all hours of the night. I'd either be reading or writing, or sketching. The weird thing is, I don't even think I was ever sleepy. Sometimes I would be up until 4AM. Sounds familiar ... yes...  but it is different now. I want to sleep at night, I need it, but my body just hadn't been agreeing with me on that point.  However, it has been improving lately. I hope that this will help get me rolling and out of this rather extended funk that I have been in for the past year and a half.