Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers. Let me keep company always with those who say "Look!" and laugh in astonishment, and bow their heads.
Mary Oliver, "Mysteries, Yes" from Evidence: Poems
something something the line in Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve where she sings “give me back my girlhood it was mine first” and the twisting dagger in my ribs that calls itself religion and tells me I’m free while I scream in agony but know it is the paradox that keeps me alive and keeps me in line.
the knowing that God is real and good because an uncaring universe would never have brought me such wonderful friends and such a beautiful life.
the slow separation of church and god.
something something “christ up on a cross/who died for us/who died for what? don’t you wanna call it off?” we’re not worth it or we are worth it or maybe love isn’t something you get by deserving it.
and maybe sins do not equate to breaking a law, but rather misaligning oneself with creation via the destruction of life and love.
the piece of god that dwells in each and every one of us, because god is love and we all have the capacity to love and to be loved. and we all have the mission to love and to be loved.
the presence of god that is found around a campfire with a guitar and friends because wherever we gather in the name of Love, we find God.
God is as real as I am. It is no longer I who live but he who lives through me, etc.
something something “the stories that you tell…are they true?” and worf replies “I have studied them all of my life and find new truths in them every time.”
what is truth?
I’m not sure who I am without you.
I’m not sure I want to find out.
But if I wait too long
I’m sure the day will come
When I must.
can’t wait to be a 40 year old woman who’s healed from her trauma and loves going grocery shopping and lives with lifelong but manageable mental illness. and gives people nice presents on their birthdays. and I’m looking forward to being 75 and sitting on the porch in the summer when the sun is shining.
Tuesday, October 25
I keep thinking about travel, and how it feels to stop.
Like, you go to all these places, have all these incredible experiences, and then you go home. Except you don’t. It feels like you stay there. I can be sitting at my computer in my apartment in the states, but if I blink I am back on that sailboat in Greece, honeydew dripping down my chin as I laugh and get sprayed by the salty waves of the Mediterranean.
And then I shake my head and refocus, and I am once again at my desk. But my mind wanders more and I’m freshly fifteen, waiting in line for a gyro stand in the old city of Krakow. There’s a phrasebook in my hand and the food smells so good and people all around are wearing flowers in their hair and there are fireworks here in the middle of the night to celebrate the summer and a noise jolts me back into reality.
I exist in every place I’ve ever been, in every time I’ve lived through, and every language I have learned all at once. Once you have traveled you never remain stationary, whether you like it or not.
10.18.2022
[ramble]
I can’t for the life of me figure out if I’m a good person. I mean, I put the worms back in the dirt after a night of heavy rain. I help strangers with directions. I wave at babies while waiting in line at the grocery store. I text my friends that I love them, and I’m honest to the core.
but.
[ramble]
I’d really like to be amused by life again.
For a long time that was my default mood. Everything in the world was entertaining and interesting to me. Now I care so much. And it is beautiful to feel everything so deeply but my soul is getting tired and worn out from caring this much.
I would like a lighter heart. I would like to not think so deeply and seriously all the time. I’m still young right? So why is my heart so nostalgic, when everything is still ahead of me?
And don’t get me wrong, it’s not unhappiness or boredom. It’s melancholy and joy and grief and relief and dread all at once buried in my torso.
I could use some default amusement right now.
10/13/22
[ramblings]
Every so often there is a particular line from a song that pierces the essence of my being so sharply that I cannot stop thinking about it.
Take “Northern Attitude” by Noah Kahan for example, because who writes “if I get too close/and I’m not how you hoped/forgive my northern attitude/oh, I was raised out in the cold” and then just continues with their life?????
There’s some element in it that feels like begging. Begging to be loved unconditionally, begging to be loved in a way in which no one is burdened by it. Like, please, understand me and give me some grace and some pardon because I know I’m colder and harsher than I want to be. I’m trying.
some great philosopher
We stood outside, letting the evening mist soak through our coats
a single street light illuminating your face as you ask me a question.
In the past you asked such difficult questions
like
“What if?”
and
“How?”
And now in the mist and the lamplight my hand rests in yours
and you ask me simply,
“Would you like to go inside?”
Like some great philosopher,
or maybe Bob Dylan
mood2you