05.31.2013 - 05.31.2013
If you didn't like this weather you would call it an ugly day. The sky is low and gray, and the sea has darkened to match. Still, it is blessedly cool, with a tangled breeze chopping the water. I watch boats crisscrossing slowly in front of me.
Despite these peaceful surroundings, I feel troubled. Maybe it's merely a matter of sifting out the unuseful emotions from the useful ones. Nothing that disturbs me right now could possibly be useful since I could not ask for more from Bunaken, or life in general (except perhaps better health). The drizzle is all right. The gritty, trash-strewn beach is all right. The food and our room are much more than all right. Chris has gone off diving, and I have nothing to do all day--exactly how I want it. And yet.
I have been turning inward more and more lately. Perhaps my mind is saturated with new travel experiences, and nothing I see is coming in anymore. I feel, in a way, finished, though with what I cannot say. With Asia? We've exhausted ourselves these past few weeks. No wonder we feel constantly on the verge of sickness. Nothing heals but must always grow into a festering, unhappy wound. Obediently I slather on antibiotic ointment as Chris directs me, but I feel miserable and unsure. Constantly astonished that my body cannot seem to keep up. I shiver. Some breath of mortality blows up my spine.