Deep-seated

There are aspects to the human condition I find cycling.

We go year periods with little to no change. From there a big life moment happens. We book mark it, tab it, photograph it. From there we live with that new addition. In the same pattern since birth our life cycles, yet again. This time however, with the new addition.

Almost like a growth, you get used to this thing being in your life, surrounding you. Then another life moment happens and the thing is gone. More quietly your life finds a cycle again. Living without this thing. All in all, one day you realize that it’s like it was never really there. Cycling.

If we can always get back to where we came from, get back to our patterns, then what is the point?

I think the fear of losing something special is hiding in my midst.

SuperHero

Since I could dream they were filled with the desire to be remembered. Filled with a possibility of somehow being greater.

The events that follow prove to be somewhat limiting. However, being that I’m only 24 going on 25, I can see now I have time.

Previously feeling constrained by the counting seconds, I now feel something greater, time. Time for what it is.

I am in training for the attainabilty of what I know is to come. Forcibly so.

What is life but missed opportunity? I never want to feel the sting of regret. Truer then most failings, regret is so long-lasting. In memoirs we leave them to continue forward. Forward carried in the eyes and ears of our descendants.

One day, long from now, I want the wind to whisper my name. But more so, even if I was just “that one girl,” I’d be fine. For it’s what was done and the acts that are remembered that are of significance.

Being recollected is only the small of it.

Let my war cry ring from the mountains as I am now wanting my life to be mine, shared.

We are communal and in that I want us all to have these same desires.

I do have a dream and I hope I never awaken. For sometimes the dreams are greater.

Timeline

Life is like a rocket ship through space. Quickly moving through what seems like…nothingness. Possible collisions. Surrounded by unknown. The furthest reaches are slicked with fear, black ice. Here we race.

We can quantify all the significant moments in our life. I feel like there’s a file drawer somewhere filled with empty folders. I believe them to be pre-labeled. Ready to be filled.

Life doesn’t seem to be moment by moment. It’s chunk of time by chunk of time.

Feels so quick. Like that rocket. Traveling. Constant. The deaths are the ends of journeys. We made it to the moon but how? It’s that. The recollection. The reliving. The remembrance. Don’t you feel it? It’s the culminating moments. Who we were when making our way.

We’ve been so many versions of ourselves and continue to change.

I’m not sure who I’ll be a year from now but there will be some part of me that I’ll miss.

It’s always about the way we were.

Cheers

I raise my glass to the pain. The pain of new life. The pain of a dead life. The pain of cycle.

Mourning comfort and security. I can say, honestly, I liked being Married. When it was good. Something stable in an ever rocking world. Sadly, there’s more to it than titles and misinterpreted perceptions.

Cheers to the rose-colored glasses. Cheers to the naive.

Small Bits

Driving. Ears clogged. I’m trapped in my own inner workings; digestion, realization, thought. Not in a bad way but almost in a comatose state. The thoughts are foggy, sounds echoed and I can’t get my mind to waver.

Pop. Pop. Ears trying to find some release. Here I release as well. Set free from the coma and thrust back into reality. Leaves me wondering, “When did I pass Fred Meyer’s?”

In these moments I’m trapped like the pages of a diary; forever reliving a moment. More a montage of moments but instantaneous. From listing off characteristics of a boy I like to speaking in code about my unhappiness.

What we write never is exactly how the moments play out. They can get close but the tangible note-book page feeling never gets there.

I wish words came with emoticons that you could press and actually feel that emotion. For what it was. For it’s complexity.

These waves help me process small bits of my life. What I feel, why I feel it. I like to understand. What I don’t understand is why I let myself get to these places where reflection is needed , “hindsight is 20/20.” I wish that in a moment I could pause and choose to continue. Yes or No. Sometimes clicking No.

I want to have more control.