(Disclaimer: I got a little tipsy last night & found a keyboard. Sorry y 'all.)
Sometimes joy carries a sting. It is simple to chalk up past experiences to the bastard Fate and rationalize years of complicity as just that, convenience and lack of discomfort. I spent years in a self-induced state of calculated comfort. I lost so much damn time because I was too afraid to express a semblance of human emotion. Ah...the harsh lessons we learn. I did not realize how closed off and patently inaccessible I was four years ago. Wasted time and wasted space and here I sit lamenting about missed embraces and I want to break large pieces of pottery - dash them against a wiling surface and scream until my vocal chords rupture. Does this sound melodramatic and weak? I don't give a sterile fuck. This is where I sit right now. Broken and bruised over lost years and hubris. Goddamn if I can't get over it tonight. While everything comes up roses and sunshine, I still feel shitty about what has been lost.
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(Aurora Public Library 2003)
Because it flies!
all images are mine unless otherwise credited (but sometimes usually i get lazy)
The Vault
Destinations
The Shiz
Things that make me giddy
- Cameras
- Mechanical Pencils
- My Funny Valentine
- My Wusthofs
- Pygmy Goats
- Rocks
- The smell of fresh mint
- Used books
- You
bicyclettes
(Aurora Public Library 2003)
1 comment:
i can relate. in my frustration of why and how, i have come to realize that, although i think i should have been/could have been in a better spot, maybe i was meat to be exactly where i was. maybe that wasted time wasn't wasted at all. maybe it was strengthening me, shaping me, preparing me for what lay ahead. and you know what? after i stepped back, i realized that's exactly what took place. sometimes what we classify as lost, may actually be what we've found.
if that means anything. lol if not, thanks for letting me talk :o) luv you!!
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