My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I formulate infinity stored deep inside of me…

Jun 2


Category: Life

It’s been weeks, weeks and weeks since I’ve written here. This place is such a shadow of what it used to be, it’s such a wandering ghost. It really does haunt me. I mean, I remember just writing whatever was in my head and it felt good after I wrote. I always felt less heavy inside, and people who stumbled upon the words tended to like reading them. I’ve just been lost, really, really lost. I want to be found. Who’s going to find me?

This place reflects me, this place is empty. What’s that say about me for the last long while? Or maybe I’m not empty, it’s really more that, I’m so full of things that I hate. I have done things that I hate, things that I never thought I’d do. Horrible things that make me feel black inside. I never set out to do something bad, I don’t think that I’m inherently a bad person, but I might feel better if I were. I wouldn’t feel guilt over anything, I wouldn’t feel any empathy toward who I hurt. My soul wouldn’t feel like it’s deformed.

Given enough stress and enough loneliness, history shows that I’m going to make bad decisions. I need to not do that, maybe starting right now. Used to be, I’d just go drink enough vodka or bourbon to kill a pony. That was so much simpler, just sort of a self-destructive thing that depressed writers in particular seem really keen on. Those days I miss, comparatively speaking. This other lapse, it’s so far from the me in my head, I can’t, I cannot believe I went down that road, several times. Something really bad happened to me as a result of the last time and I earned that scar and that’s fine. I know I’m kind of rambling, writing without really showing anything. I just, I want everything to be unfucked. I want to just be a good person, I want to do good things. I am genuinely sorry to someone, I won’t repeat the wrongs again. I don’t want to carry the sin anymore.

I don’t know how it got to all this. I only want one simple thing in the entire fucking world. I feel like I’m running out of time, so fast. I’m scared.


2 Comments so far

  1. clare June 2nd, 2011 10:34 am

    You know, I hate to be the advice-giving, preachy type, but I’m going to throw it out there, anyway. You can tell me I’m a jerk if I’m being a jerk. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 30 years on this planet it’s this: it’s really, really important to be kind to yourself. It’s a recognition of your humanity and, as humans, we tend to fuck things up. Being kind to yourself means acknowledging in an observational, non-judgmental way when things aren’t going as well as you’d like, when productivity isn’t flowing, when the words just aren’t coming out. You’re a human being, not a machine, although sometimes being human feels like being a machine. Being kind to yourself also means honoring those fuck-ups and making amends while retaining a measure of forgiveness for yourself. I can say that your writing today sounded much like things I’ve heard in my own head, and remembering the need to be kind to myself is part of what gets me through. Maybe that’s useful; maybe it isn’t. But the other thing that always, always makes me feel better is Jay Smooth’s video about the “little haters” in all of us. If you haven’t seen it, maybe it’ll help you, too:

  2. Steph June 3rd, 2011 9:48 am

    First, we are human. We make mistakes. Forgive yourself. Everyday.

    Second, you are a writer dammit. Write. Write about the emptiness, write about the fear, write about the journey. But keep writing. It is your gift.