I don’t know where or how.
Somewhere along the line—
In these 25 days,
And on this busted road…
Perseverence.
So I began to look
For other things
But I kept picking up
Ones that were broken.
Because it’s hard to let go of your old self.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
24 days.
Today I got 24 days and most of you don't know what that means for me, but all of you are proud of me.
And when I'm ready I'll share. And I hope you'll be there to listen.
And when I'm ready I'll share. And I hope you'll be there to listen.
some time ago
So people have been bugging me about whether I’ve been writing. I realize people who want to see me create stay on my ass.
The truth is, I haven’t been writing.
Things have been good, some things have been great. Life just keeps handing me things to learn from and I keep gobbling them up like they are the last thing I might ever devour. I think I haven’t been writing because it means a lot to me. I’ve been reading some of my own stuff and laughing so hard I’ve cried and crying so hard I had to laugh. I deal with pain in a bad way when it’s my own. Not always in a self destructive way, but always in a way that hides it from people, or so I think… Anyway, the writing… I haven’t been doing it because I’ve been reading the old stuff- and it’s made me miss the old stuff. And now I have these days, these moments, that I’m spending with my mom and they mean so much to me… they suffocate me with the weight of their intensity… the idea that my mother and I get to share this amazing life together- and we laugh together and we just spend time together. I have people so close to me who only dream and scream about this- they want it so badly, some of them don’t even know it, some of them are drowning in its loss. And I feel that. I feel that in my soul and when I’m with her, my mom, I just know how much these moments mean- and if I talk about them- if I share them, then the severity of their influence in my life can’t be lost when she’s gone, and right now… somehow… that seems like an easier thing to do than miss her as much as I know I will. And that’s stupid. And I know that. But being stupid is not enough for me to get passed it. But here I go. Tonight. In this condition, under these circumstances. I will just try to be honest again, and do it out loud so that you can all digest it, and feel like you know me- feel like you’re touching me, which really… is all anyone who ever loved anything ever really wanted.
I wonder, often, why I got this set of circumstances. It doesn’t seem fair, and it certainly doesn’t justify the rebellion I so desperately pursued for so long. I guess everyone who ever went through that looks back and asks themselves the same question. But seriously, I feel like I won the birth lottery- I hope a lot of people feel that way, but all I hear about is people who don’t—so I feel like I need to talk about my gratitude—like if I wasn’t grateful all my blessings would be a curse I would carry.
The truth is, I haven’t been writing.
Things have been good, some things have been great. Life just keeps handing me things to learn from and I keep gobbling them up like they are the last thing I might ever devour. I think I haven’t been writing because it means a lot to me. I’ve been reading some of my own stuff and laughing so hard I’ve cried and crying so hard I had to laugh. I deal with pain in a bad way when it’s my own. Not always in a self destructive way, but always in a way that hides it from people, or so I think… Anyway, the writing… I haven’t been doing it because I’ve been reading the old stuff- and it’s made me miss the old stuff. And now I have these days, these moments, that I’m spending with my mom and they mean so much to me… they suffocate me with the weight of their intensity… the idea that my mother and I get to share this amazing life together- and we laugh together and we just spend time together. I have people so close to me who only dream and scream about this- they want it so badly, some of them don’t even know it, some of them are drowning in its loss. And I feel that. I feel that in my soul and when I’m with her, my mom, I just know how much these moments mean- and if I talk about them- if I share them, then the severity of their influence in my life can’t be lost when she’s gone, and right now… somehow… that seems like an easier thing to do than miss her as much as I know I will. And that’s stupid. And I know that. But being stupid is not enough for me to get passed it. But here I go. Tonight. In this condition, under these circumstances. I will just try to be honest again, and do it out loud so that you can all digest it, and feel like you know me- feel like you’re touching me, which really… is all anyone who ever loved anything ever really wanted.
I wonder, often, why I got this set of circumstances. It doesn’t seem fair, and it certainly doesn’t justify the rebellion I so desperately pursued for so long. I guess everyone who ever went through that looks back and asks themselves the same question. But seriously, I feel like I won the birth lottery- I hope a lot of people feel that way, but all I hear about is people who don’t—so I feel like I need to talk about my gratitude—like if I wasn’t grateful all my blessings would be a curse I would carry.
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