scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

6.9.10

Picked up on that, did you? I am not afraid of this moment, this bubble of time within which we travel. Not now, not today. Maybe tomorrow i call the lifecoach again, who can say? (PSA: holy shit, do i ever recommend that.) When i was a kid, i said no when i should have said yes (when i should have said yes i will yes), and then i had regret for things i had not done. Only ever for things i had not done. I made decisions out of fear that changed everything, this tiny, terrified child. Now i am big and this is the world as it is, here is the path of what has been (you see this point, where it dips into shadow? and this, and this? i will show you, i have shown you), and i look out over the expanse of future (i relax on a mountaintop and look out over the plains, the trees like a line of tiny, waiting buttons, the rivers and lakes shining with the sky) and i want it all, every choice, every bifurcation, everything, anything. Shantih shantih shantih. Right? I read it again and this time i understand the German. I had quite forgotten that there was any.

There are good moments, ones where everything in the world is luminous, where the things that run across my head are god, i love my life (that was in a Starbucks) and whatever i did to pay for this was worth it (that wasn't). The black spaces between, the old ways, they come less often - not that they don't. To have it, and to have it taken, sets off a hurricane, and the aftermath comes, as you already know, or you can imagine. But i want to keep this, in my eyes, on my tongue. In the palms of my hands. Again. Now.

Labels: reflection, writing

scrawled @ 08:00