Force field vernacular

Kindness. Hate. Annoyance. Sympathy. Encouragement. Tearing down. Tangled feelings found in a few words. These forced sounds that sing of grievances and loss. That have the power to raise the dead things in us, to fight the unseen, to cause us to tenaciously cling to our own inability to be what by now we thought we should be. Let it go already. Just give it to Him. Musical words help me escape. They cause me to run to the places of my heart that I once thought lost and hidden for good. By now you would think I would be able to turn my own phrase to express what my heart feels. Instead I find them there. Always there. “I let it fall, my heart, and as it fell, you rose to claim it.” Thank you. My inability to express my own thoughts lay not in the words I cannot find, but in the words I throw out to shield me from having to talk about much weightier things. The hilarity and harshness of my choicest phrases protect me. I must say that I have always been afraid to admit what I so strongly consider weakness, even if my weakness seems to them strength. I am so stubborn. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Skywalker, let’s get it in gear. Time to disable the force field.

Restlessness: Well, this morning I decided I don’t like it very much.

It’s that feeling that wakes you up in the middle of the night, the one that induces stomach pains and headaches that have no specific bodily reason for existence or seeming derivation. I didn’t eat something bad. I didn’t drink too much. They come and go as they please, and nothing helps to abate them.

Distracting helps a little, but only for so long. It isn’t the act of examination that I fear, although my palms do get sweaty and my hands shake a little. It is the underlying implication that this examination brings. It seems to me as if they are lined up, all together, each having the same expectant look on their face that says, “Let’s go kid, let’s see what you’re made of,” one thing that I fear the most. I don’t even know what I am capable of, I guess. But somehow I like resting in the unknown, because it leaves no place to reveal lack.

My goodness, I’m nearly 25. When is this going to end?!

This morning after waking up I decided, I think I am going to take a wiffle bat to life’s knees, just to see where it will get me. Because I want to know what I’m made of; I want to know where I lack. I want to make myself better. And well, you will never realize you have the remnants of this morning’s powered doughnut on your face until you decide to look in the mirror. And wouldn’t you rather discover it now rather than 10 min later on the bus when a stranger informs you of it with the universal silent gesture of the “you-have-something-on-your-face” hand swipe? Yah, me too. :)

Don't stay put

Goodness I see the potential
For you to become what I have not
For you to win what I have lost
For you to remember what I forgot

For every word, letter, and phone call, I thank you. It seems that thanking you is all I can do, though I hanker for the day when I can do much more. When I can see you live your dreams and help you, if you ever need it. Though I doubt it. Your will, at times, is far stronger than mine. Stubborn even, I am sure, but still soft, malleable, clay-like in its rawness.

I have blinked and the time has flown.
I have learned and have come to know
That time won’t leave us left alone
Always together though not at “home”
Or the home that used to be our own
Now given to dust-covered pillowcases
Old threads and ratty shoelaces
Half-chewed by our animal friend
Who couldn’t remain with us in the end
A sad state he left us in
and in which we will not remain.