I'm not confused. Just conflicted, but not in a bad way. Not necessarily in a bad way. Not perceived in a bad way. The pain in my leg is finally gone. It's been fading all week.

Conflicted. Two viable, attractive options. The pros of each option are very attractive, one material and physical, one spiritual and ecstatic, both necessarily intermingled. The cons of each option are also compelling, perhaps equally compelling. And the kicker is that in the big picture, it really, really does not matter which one I choose.

It's the same with packing to move. It's a serious pain in the ass, stressful, and has me in perpetual wonder what the hell I'm doing. It's also cathartic, an adrenaline stream, movement, change.

I know my postings have been erratic. That's why I don't like people with an emotional investment in me reading these pages. And at this point, I really don't know what's going to happen in the next few days. Who knows what packing will do to change my reality or perception of it. Getting rid of burdensome furniture, emptying out the dwelling.

I act like it's full speed ahead, pick up the truck Wednesday and drive off. It could be the total opposite. I really don't know. It conflicts and changes, and that's fine with me. Was suicide just some stupid, frivolous, vain fantasy?