Hunger.

What do I hunger for now.

It has been a long day. And it has been a long week. I hunger for sleep. I think I got pulled out of the department everyday this week. Except for Saturday. A nice long sleep, just a couple days in dreamland.

I long for something else. Hunger isn’t the same as longing. Hunger feels deeper and more primal. Why did I lapse from hunger to longing.

I hunger for a friend. There are so few people I feel like I connect to in this world. Often I just feel alone. I hunger for someone to talk to about books. Someone to learn new things together with, and go to new places. I hunger for a real connection.

I hunger for sex as well. But the sexual connection is empty without more. Something more like an emotional connection. I hunger to be able to express how I feel to someone. And have this someone listen to me. Just to know this someone cares on a real level.

I hunger for a mental connection. To be able to discuss ideas and concepts. The book I am reading about quarks. Or the book I am reading about astrology or tarot. Maybe even the book I might be reading about Everett Ruess.

And I huger for a spiritual connection. There are many beautiful paths and many amazing people. In the end we find our own path. But I hunger for a soulmate. Someone who can share a length of the path. A beautiful soul. But one who can see beyond their own beauty.

I hunger at times to be more like Everett Ruess. The desert was the only place for him. Where is my place in the world? Do I even have a place? To be alone with my thoughts. My art. My words. Walking through the sunset and into the storms. To set out for the mountain top, just for the view. I hunger for a connection to the wild.

But sometimes I hunger for home. A soft warm bed. The closeness of family. The social circle of friends. The support of a community. I hunger to be a part of something larger. To be surrounded by people who know me and love me. I hunger for a connection to people.

I hunger to be a great writer. Like Annie Dillard. To create a work of at others can relate to, like Susanna Kaysen. I love Girl Interrupted. And I hunger for a girl, who is a bit crazy.

I hunger for a girl like Anne of Green Gables. Yes, Ann… Ann… Ann with an E.

I hunger to write more. I write deeper from my soul. To unlock a creative force inside myself. And to write the next great novel. To put words together with a beauty and rhythm. I long to be both a master of prose and poetry.

When I am at work I hunger to be a better worker. I want a better job. Or I want more from the job at Walmart. To be able to do more, to feel more accomplished. To have more responsibility. And in the end to earn more money to support my dreams. I hunger for a job which is fulfilling. Or to be able to find fulfillment in the job at Walmart.

I hunger for a creative course in my life. To swim in the river of passion. And feel the emotional waters around me.

I hunger to know my own emotions deeper. To understand what I am feeling and why. I want to be able to express myself deeper. I hunger for a connection to my own emotions. And a connection I can share to help others.

I hunger for all the words I wrote last time which got lost. This is my second time writing this essay.

I hunger to be more like my cat. More content. Just more happy. But mostly more loving. I still feel so much bitterness for others sometimes, I hunger real love. Not just for one or two, but for everyone. Of course I love Robin, and Stephanie and so many others. I hunger for many specific people to be back in my life. And for many others to be closer. I hunger for Sage’s friendship.

I hunger for Kirsten Duntz’s body.

I am sitting here in my soft bed. With my soft kitty. And I am starting to hunger sleep more. I hunger the deep and warm dreams. The dreams I recall in the morning to write in my journal. Or post here. I hunger for something rewarding.

My job is rewarding on many levels. But I hunger for the water of spiritual bliss. I hunger for the name of Krishna. To sing the name of Ram and Sita. To feel more connected to this grand universe I am a part of, and so are you. I hunger to know who you are.

But first I hunger to know who I am. Who am I? I hunger to understand my own desires. I am starting a list of things I hunger to know more about myself. I feel like I am living with a friend. And I hunger to be a better friend to myself. And I hunger to be a better friend to others.

I hunger to not be alone.

The list feels like it could go on forever. And maybe this is why Room to Write suggested hunger as a topic. I hunger to advance my art. To be able to make a living off my art. To have the ability to share my art with others, and have it be meaningful to them. I hunger for the ability to touch other hearts. To heal other hearts in the same way mine needs healing.

I hunger for 30 more words to hit 1,000. And I hunger for more time. More focus. I hunger to be able to accomplish a list this weekend. First and foremost to create a list.

I hunger for a clean room. I hunger for my records to be up to date. I will have to make a to do list for sure.

I hunger for knowledge. To see the world. And to learn Spanish. But also German and French. Maybe even Chinese or Korean. I just hunger to be smart and wiser.

I hunger for the freedom of travel. And the discovery of new places. The beauty and the openness of the road. But also the closeness and warmth of home. And hearth.

I hunger for sweets sometimes when I am hungry. But I am trying to change my hungers. For so long I have been trying not to hunger love. But I do hunger love. I feel the hunger makes me more vulnerable. And it makes me more needy. And needy is not attractive. I hunger to be more attractive to women.

I hunger to find the right woman. And to hold her close to me.

I just hunger for more from this life. More than work, sleep and food. I hunger for my life to have a meaning. For my life to have a purpose. I hunger to feel like I am a part of something bigger. To be a part of something more important.

I hunger for readers. And I hunger to know what they think of my writing. How it touches them.

I hunger for sleep and dreams.

(A Room to Write exercise)