shaky faith.
at the end of any semester there are the usual jitters, stress and frantic preparations. the almost end of this semester found me on my floor, unwilling to move because nothing would work and this awful drowning feeling had flooded my lungs. the panic attacks were long over and all that remained was shaky faith and complete and utter doubt. drowning on dry land in a dark room. i don’t recommend. before i scummed to my heavy eyelids, i sent out a plea for help hoping for an echo of reassurance. i woke this morning and heard the echo returned and knew there was work to be done. there were still people who thought i could do it even if i didn’t know myself any more. those people are life rafts in the most violent of seas.
when all is lost i call them so they can help me fend off the nightmares and i wake up to their messages and know they still have faith in me for some odd reason.
they are my life rafts.
i don’t sing, i only hum along.
happiness, just like love, is a basic human requirement. it’s the hardest plant to keep alive and the most elusive creature on a rainy day/month/year. we fight and tear down walls looking for it, scream it’s name in the dark empty streets and search desperately for it at the bottom of scotch and vodka bottles. this only dulls the pain, the flames still curling the corners of our pages we seek it out in others thinking maybe they’ve got enough for two.
when all seems lost, the sun flower has wilted, the creature has hidden and only the darkest of nights is left, you find yourself looking right at it. just as beautiful, just as vivid as you’d expected.
happiness throws a shower of sparks.
i liked it better before i loved the scars on your chest.
wisdom comes in many shapes and sizes. from your small doses that amount to the size of an old fashioned milk bottle to huge handfuls of it, so much you’re practically splashing around in wisdom puddles. there are people who exist who enjoy speaking in wholesome bricks, or just seem to know what to say every time. they’re never left speechless or struggling to make things less worse and never unable to help a sobbing person the rest of the world views as beyond repair. that kind are few and far and i don’t know any of them yet.
i wish i spoke in bricks of thought but really i stutter and freak out and fly into a mess, all takes about a second. the people i call and run to know exactly what to do when this happens, “sit down, take a breath, don’t touch that sharp object, what’s going on?” all said slowly with strong hands on my shoulders weighing me back to earth. after the to and fro, the screams, the frantic reasoning and eventual ear splinting silence they offer up precious words they save for occasions like this. they catch and throw the light like diamonds and it’s beautiful. it’s the kind of stuff you remember and write down in a book you intend to keep for the rest of your life.
stray sentences that catch you completely off guard make the thunder storm beating at the windows in your mind seem like the slightest breeze shifting the blades of grass outside.
