settling a debt-- with life
Jul. 3rd, 2016 12:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ataori This post is long, long overdue.
I think I've thought about sitting down to write this more than a dozen times. The amount of times that I've actually done it? Once, maybe twice. And I never finished. Because I didn't know if the things I had to say were safe. For me, for the internet, for the eyes that may come across this blog by accident-- and maybe sometimes, not by accident (and if you are here, then hello!). Unsafe, because they aren't exactly things that I want to talk about, that I like talking about. But there are reasons why we were given lips to speak with, hands to write with. And so I will think. And I will think, and think, and think, about these things, about the darkness that has plagued my mind for so long, that have shrouded my thoughts and perceptions of the world, and made things i once thought to be beautiful, into things I would associate with fear.
Because something happened today. And I never saw it coming, not like this, never like this. No one did. No one had second thoughts before going to bed last night about the things they should have said. But time stops for no one, and fears nothing, and sometimes it will take from us the things that we care for the most. Someone matters to me, who matters to him, and so many others in this world. He was our student council president in Elementary School. I remember voting for him. I wonder why I ever doubted him-- maybe it was because he was so small. Back then, I wondered, "How can someone this small carry so much responsibility?", because Elementary School was a big deal, you know. I voted anyways. I trusted him. And he would come to love one of the most important people from my childhood. I hope their love was good-- i'm sure it was, she is so bright, you're bound to be happy with her. (And you did, you did so well, I hope you're at peace. I hope it's warm where you are, because the world as it is right now is so cold, and I'm sorry you had to leave it in that way, you don't deserve this, you didn't)
Maybe I'm so afraid of this world for more than its erratic movements, its uncertainty, its mystery. Maybe I'm afraid of it because it isn't a world that makes me proud of being me yet-- and I hate this, I hate making this about me... but this blog, all of it, is also me, it's all of me, all of my secrets, and not-so-secrets anymore, here, so bear with me for a bit, okay? There are so many things that I want.... but do I really need them anymore? No, I have all the things that are important to me-- a beautiful family, a caring mother and father, the best friends I could ever ask for, acquaintances who would reach out their hands if they ever saw that I had fallen on the ground. What am I so afraid of? I love them, I love, and love, and love them, so much. I'm so proud to call them mine. This is me. I am me. All of this. And that's okay. Maybe it isn't right now, when things aren't going in the right direction, but life will turn, as time will turn, and we'll have to run fast, so we can keep up, but it's a part of living. Changing your pace to suit your own story. And I still have time to write mine. And I will, and it'll be gorgeous, it's going to be so beautiful. I wish yours was written a little bit longer. But short stories, long stories, all of them... are words. Are you, are me. And they are so important. And they make this world, create it. With the memories, with the illustrations, with the jokes, the anecdotes, the tearjerking moments. We are all the authors of a great adventure. I still wish I could write better. I wish my words were as colorful as the images in my mind when I think of them. Sometimes I'm not in the best place, washed over in darkness, in water as thick as paint and dark as ink. But I have hands, and these hands can pull, and push, and touch, and hold, and write, and hug, and create. I want to create. I want to love, I want to live. I know I can. I've got hands. And these hands have got hands, too.
We'll be okay.
I'll try to believe less, and believe more. In the right things. In this world, in morning sunrises, in the light, in Skype calls, and hand holding. And in adventure. Where there is hope, there is ability... and it's beautiful.
I think I've thought about sitting down to write this more than a dozen times. The amount of times that I've actually done it? Once, maybe twice. And I never finished. Because I didn't know if the things I had to say were safe. For me, for the internet, for the eyes that may come across this blog by accident-- and maybe sometimes, not by accident (and if you are here, then hello!). Unsafe, because they aren't exactly things that I want to talk about, that I like talking about. But there are reasons why we were given lips to speak with, hands to write with. And so I will think. And I will think, and think, and think, about these things, about the darkness that has plagued my mind for so long, that have shrouded my thoughts and perceptions of the world, and made things i once thought to be beautiful, into things I would associate with fear.
Because something happened today. And I never saw it coming, not like this, never like this. No one did. No one had second thoughts before going to bed last night about the things they should have said. But time stops for no one, and fears nothing, and sometimes it will take from us the things that we care for the most. Someone matters to me, who matters to him, and so many others in this world. He was our student council president in Elementary School. I remember voting for him. I wonder why I ever doubted him-- maybe it was because he was so small. Back then, I wondered, "How can someone this small carry so much responsibility?", because Elementary School was a big deal, you know. I voted anyways. I trusted him. And he would come to love one of the most important people from my childhood. I hope their love was good-- i'm sure it was, she is so bright, you're bound to be happy with her. (And you did, you did so well, I hope you're at peace. I hope it's warm where you are, because the world as it is right now is so cold, and I'm sorry you had to leave it in that way, you don't deserve this, you didn't)
Maybe I'm so afraid of this world for more than its erratic movements, its uncertainty, its mystery. Maybe I'm afraid of it because it isn't a world that makes me proud of being me yet-- and I hate this, I hate making this about me... but this blog, all of it, is also me, it's all of me, all of my secrets, and not-so-secrets anymore, here, so bear with me for a bit, okay? There are so many things that I want.... but do I really need them anymore? No, I have all the things that are important to me-- a beautiful family, a caring mother and father, the best friends I could ever ask for, acquaintances who would reach out their hands if they ever saw that I had fallen on the ground. What am I so afraid of? I love them, I love, and love, and love them, so much. I'm so proud to call them mine. This is me. I am me. All of this. And that's okay. Maybe it isn't right now, when things aren't going in the right direction, but life will turn, as time will turn, and we'll have to run fast, so we can keep up, but it's a part of living. Changing your pace to suit your own story. And I still have time to write mine. And I will, and it'll be gorgeous, it's going to be so beautiful. I wish yours was written a little bit longer. But short stories, long stories, all of them... are words. Are you, are me. And they are so important. And they make this world, create it. With the memories, with the illustrations, with the jokes, the anecdotes, the tearjerking moments. We are all the authors of a great adventure. I still wish I could write better. I wish my words were as colorful as the images in my mind when I think of them. Sometimes I'm not in the best place, washed over in darkness, in water as thick as paint and dark as ink. But I have hands, and these hands can pull, and push, and touch, and hold, and write, and hug, and create. I want to create. I want to love, I want to live. I know I can. I've got hands. And these hands have got hands, too.
We'll be okay.
I'll try to believe less, and believe more. In the right things. In this world, in morning sunrises, in the light, in Skype calls, and hand holding. And in adventure. Where there is hope, there is ability... and it's beautiful.