Thursday, October 27, 2011

October 27.

I write, because I can't stay quiet. I share, because it needs to matter. It needs to help and make a difference. Something like this can't just happen and be forgotten. Sometimes it feels like it has...the world keeps turning as it should, but it needs to carry these experiences with it. Do I think that if I help at least one person, the guilt and loss of it all will simmer down in my being? No; there's no substitution for that. But things like these shouldn't happen and they shouldn't continue to happen all around us. We live in a society where this is becoming a trend and there's so much apathy...a mentality that we're better off without people who don't want to be here in the first place...that is mighty ignorant. Death is already inevitable without us having to rush the process.

x

Today, my sister would've been 16 years old. I wonder who she would've been and how we would've spent celebrating this special day. It never goes away, that heartache just transforms into something else, something you can live with. But when days like these arrive, you can't help but go down memory lane, and ask yourself infinite questions, but mostly, you wish for an instant that things weren't the way they are. With all the time that's passed, it's near impossible for me to picture a world with her in it. She's a part of me in the way I see the world, but she's not a part of the world itself. She taught me the most about innocent love, mainly because she never got to be old enough to be corrupted by anything, and every little beautiful lesson she taught me is the only legacy I have left of her. I'd like to say that after all this time days like these aren't painful in the least, but that would be a lie. But I think there's something really beautiful in that; time may take us further and further away from those we lost, but we never forget or stop loving them. With that comes the weight of their absence, and I for one, am perfectly okay with carrying that around. Our love is never free.
Happy Birthday sweet girl, love you to infinity.

Monday, October 24, 2011

On keeping on.

Recently, I lost many of my material possessions due to complicated circumstances. Things that are very dear to me. All my books. Memory boxes. My journals. A chess set I've had since I was 7. My sketchbook and paintings. Things that are only important to me and irreplaceable due to their sentimental value. Things Chantz gave me, stuff I bought in Spain, gifts from my father and mother, and things I've collected since I was a little girl. It was a tough blow, and made me feel like I only seem to keep losing what I care about and that in a way all those experiences were erased from existence. I allowed myself to react to this loss,  feeling like I was doomed to keep losing what I loved for the rest of my life, but a day later I picked myself up and realized there are some things you can't do anything about except keep keeping on. One of the hardest lessons I've learned this year...accepting the unchangeable. I find myself remembering new things that were lost and I'm sure that will keep happening for a while, but it's a little funny to me that I'm not as upset as I feel I should be. I know it's mostly in part because of everything that's happened this year; our memories are not attached to what's tangible. Granted, the material can be a reminder of something wonderful that you otherwise wouldn't remember, because the memories are buried so deep in your mind, but in the end, they are simply things. And in a world that tries to teach us that this is the stuff that makes up a meaningful life, it is important to not buy into that lie. Why do people cherish that more than the people around them? More than love, compassion, happiness, life, and humanity as a whole? The material can improve one's quality of life, but without any of those non-tangible things where is our humanity and meaning?

It's not like I'm starting with a clean slate, but it was a wonderful reminder, although quite harsh, that those things don't define who I was, or who I am now. And that they are definitely not what matters the most in the world. What matters is still with me. And as cliche as that is, it's astoundingly true, and knowing that frees you from the meaningless owning you.

It's been a really rough few weeks, but there have been days that have been exceptionally wonderful. I find myself holding on to those moments more than everything else. They trump those days by a long shot. The more time passes, the more beauty I experience. One can't really stop going when shit hits the fan, and when you stumble upon beautiful and significant people, moments, and things that just enrich your life in extraordinary ways, you are so thankful you kept going.

Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I'm not going to make it, but you laugh inside -- remembering all the times you've felt that way.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Abjection

That feeling you get when you realize that the only thing separating you from being dead is almost nothing. Understanding the weight of that sentence is something most don't even come close to...except maybe when they're near the end of their lives. When they have a need to feel like their lives had some purpose in this grand universe of ours. But what if it doesn't? Does it change the fact that you lived? No...living for the sake of living is something I wish I saw more of. Life is intrinsic and there is no need to justify why we are here.

It is also fragile, yet we are so careless with it, and disregard it much too often.We act as if we have some control over our own beating hearts.
I thought realizing this was going to make me feel like a helpless child but instead I've gained a greater appreciation for life...an understanding, and perhaps a fear, that life can disappear in an instant and it is in fact the more precious for it. With a full grasp of that reality, everything else is irrelevant. But you learn to love more. And live more.




I feel like I've come to a standstill in this process though. I keep running myself into a wall. It's a rough transition. It's as if there was a time limit on all of this and I'm now "expected" to be over it. Supposed to move on with this new life. What about the parts I'm not ready for? The things I haven't worked out?...I even pressure myself to be over it, as if it's losing its importance with the passing of time. I find myself apologizing when I fall apart, or when something triggers me; it's almost as if I'm losing the confidence I had in owning this entire process. As if I'm not allowed to feel it anymore. Like continuing to write about it and share is completely unnecessary now.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

I just want you to know that I know you from after, after all this is over. And there are some parts of you that cannot be touched, no matter how they touch you.

You're okay when I know you. Everything's okay.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

10-05-11

The hardest part? Knowing you will never fulfill your dreams. That you will never play another song or spend hours upon hours researching cool facts about chemistry and biology and impossible songs you are determined to learn perfectly. That you will never laugh that contagious laughter again. That you will not ride that dirt bike of yours or feel the rain again. That you had so much living ahead of you, and it's all gone. That it's all so very permanent day after day. And it will always be this way. You will be a part of the past. Not the present, nor future, in terms of your own existence and growth.
That one day, I will be further away from when you existed than closer. It may become a distant memory that a girl who doesn't exist anymore experienced.
That one day, even if you were to come back, I will choose to have the life I have without you, than the one we would've had.

Monday, October 3, 2011

October 3, 2011

It comes in waves.
Unexpected currents that try to suck me in and take me back to a place long left behind.
I am stronger, I fight it, and I get better at keeping up with it instead of lagging behind.
It wears me out to the core of my bones.
I wonder if it'll ever transform into something that will stop gnawing at my spirit.
The reminders aren't in every little thing I come in contact with anymore, but when I am reminded of you it strikes me like lightning. It roots me to the very spot I may be in. For a moment I am not here; I am fully submerged in a memory that I'm not able to shake off for days at a time.

It comes in waves.

"It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and...carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you...you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and - there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be awful - not all the time. It's not that you like it exactly, but it's what you've got instead. So, you carry it around."