I've sat with my hands in my lap for quite some time now. Folded. Quietly thinking.
I've watched the cycle of my life, thought about it, talked about, fought about it. I've moved, with necessary precaution, in and out of relationships, hairstyles, and moods. I've walked back into memories that I did not want to revisit--places I did not want to go, voices I did not want to hear, and smells I did not want know. I've reenacted many situations, changing the beginnings and the ends, and then, after playing with imagination and what ifs, I've accepted the realities.
It is an important place to come to, reality; to see yourself as you actually are: the beauty, the flaws, the nature of yourself.
Open and exposed and honest.
It causes tremors and vomiting for some, death for others, and confusion for those that are left; nonetheless, whether death or convulsions take you, you face it, accept it, and move through it.
Your hair gets a bit dissheveled. You may swear a lot, sob a lot, stare a lot, and there are even some instances when screaming is the only viable option.
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2 comments:
Well said, I think though that as long as you are still "feeling" the pains and joys and moods and can still write about it: then your doing okay.
its when you decide not to feel that you lose the big picture.
You have so much more going for yourself than most people around you know- i wonder if your friends know how beautiful you are. It can sure be read in your words.
Thank you.
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