| i dont want to say good riddance because thats not really how i feel. it would be a continuation of the disgusting hurtful conversation that just occurred, and while it was mildly based on truth and slightly relieving of some pent up emotions, it really was pointless. but i guess we never were "drifters." our lives are marked by sudden, distinct jerks that thrust us wholly into new and perhaps slightly uncomfortable situations. its our nature to be comforted by that discomfort. we're unstable.
and i like my instability. but not when its an instability rooted in unhappiness. i believe i can have a very fruitful, exciting life and still maintain my addiction to instability. theres just no part in it for you.
|
| |
| and if i have to listen to one more goddamned compliment given to my boss im going to slit my throat and spew all over this fabulous office.
|
| |
| theres a sense of urgency. and a character so perfectly positioned to clear it away but i know they wont show their face. and instead of feeling resentful towards life for the difficult task of having to settle it myself i will attempt to rise to the occasion. rising will take a bit more effort than i'm accustomed to sacrificing in a situation like this but really is there any other situation worth sacrificing for? there isnt. i dug deep to muster the strength to trudge through a million other moments but for my own damn self it seems too hard. i thought the effort from before meant there would be a helping hand there to assist but its clear that was merely one of those "learning experiences." what i learned i dont know. i cant figure that out yet. but i'll trudge trudge trudge anyway because its the thing to do. and even those hands that are there will have to remain untouched because i think that would only diminish the satisfaction of passing the finish line. sort of like sleeping pills.
|
| |
| i stole a pile of books from my grandparents house when they moved. by stole i mean they gave them to me because otherwise they were staying with the family who was moving in, and by pile i mean barely a smidgen compared to what they had. i was surprised to find little birds (by anais nin) in there, and of course snatched it up. the idea that either my grandma or grandpa had purchased the book of erotic tales intrigued me. this was a while ago. i finally took the bunch of books up to my apartment (now that i finally have a bookcase to store them in). the wealth of knowledge stored in these books and similarly (i assume) in the mind of my grandparents amazes me, and i'm so joyous at the opportunity to know what they know. i picked up little birds and started reading. before i could pass the preface i began to cry. whichever one of my grandparents that read it had marked it. highlighted (in pencil), underlined, noted the important areas of what they were reading. i know that its not cause they had to. my grandparents have always sought knowledge of their own accord. not for pride, not for status. they have done so always because its their genuine desire. i think perhaps their modest upbringings gave them an appreciation for knowledge, because knowledge is free. i truly believe that my grandparents are 2 of the most amazing living people on this earth. sometimes they criticize me, in the grandparental way where it comes off like advice or care. it frustrates me so much because the reasons they criticize me are the reasons i love them. where i lack, they strive. i know its impossible for them to go inside my mind and see this. so they take my lack of "success" as a lack of care. as a failure in my abilities. and its difficult to express to them how much this destroys me. i mildly tried to explain it to my grandmother but even i could tell that it came off like a childish rant. i'm almost embarrassed to really say what i mean. what i feel. and while it sickens me to even think like this, i'm not sure if they'll be around long enough for me to grow into the kind of person that can express it successfully.
i've been taken over by too many things now and cant talk about that.
la.
|
| |
