During and after the election, I began researching what country it would be possible for me to move to. now, while I am not a student of history, I do read and am capable of seeing patterns. Naturally, the majority of the countries I might be able to afford a move to and live in, are… well, repressed, fairly poor, and simply not known to love Americans. Expats or not. So I revised my search and found some different but usable alternatives in the country I’ve always loved but have never been able to visit. The search and my findings are all still open on my desktop….
I recently purchased one of those multi-movie DVDs of Paranormal Activity, movies one through five. After catching some sleep – I had been up all night, election night, per my usual routine – I began watching the movies. I understand why audiences were scared and/or creeped out, even though I was only somewhat interested and amused by the creativity. After finishing the movies, I stuck the first Jurassic Park movie in; I’m on the third in the series now. I logged onto Facebook once and saw various friends – and more – sending good-bye announcements, that they were slipping into silent mode as this country enters a new era… I followed suit.
I haven’t had many updates to my blog of late, although my recent typical routine has only been posting once or twice a month. I had been commenting to my daughter that what truly troubled me was my lack of inspiration and creativity, and inability to work on my novels. She had made a worthwhile critique to the Lynette/Lachlan story that I would like to incorporate; but, I need to finish the Allison/Robert story before I get back into the earlier work. I’ve tried to write more of Allison’s story, but it’s like I am straining for ideas, straining to reach my creativity. In an earlier post I had mentioned the disarray my house is currently in, due to a busted water pipe, and I’ve toyed with the idea that that could be the cause of my lack of creativity… well, daughter has done some of the work – enough that I can begin to put things near where they use to be. Or re-arrange, which I’m actually doing. But still no desire to write.
I’m not dreaming anymore, either. At least, I cannot recall any dreams or direct them as I once use to do. Most of my characters introduced themselves to me in my dreams, gave me a chance to get to know them and their stories so that I could write them. Even Phantom of the Opera has not been helping, and that, in my view, is quite bad. However, in the deepest part of my brain, some ideas have been trying to form. Truths.
I don’t want to leave America. Not because I have faith in my country or fellow man, because I don’t. Not anymore. No, for purely selfish reasons… my love of family, the need to be somewhat near them. Moving almost 4000 miles away would make it close to impossible to see my daughter and grand daughters, let alone the hope of ever repairing the damaged relationship with my son. I guess fear would be incorporated into this, as well… starting completely over in a new country at the age of 58, disabled, uncertain if my disability pay would follow… or continue, for that matter. You know, my daughter said it’s “only four years.” A deep, inner fear is that a huge change – for the worse – is in the making now.
I just began crying at the scene where the Navy and Marines arrive to rescue Dr. Grant’s party. I’m crying easier now and that’s not necessarily a good thing. All the lawsuits and criminal charges against Trump – will they just “go away” now that he’s the President elect? The sheep have spoken, the crazies run the asylum; I am so outtie….