Often I think about how temporary life really is. Not just life itself, but the communities we belong to that form and dissipate like clouds. Everything for which I laughed, cried, and raged no longer exist, as if it never did. I'm only connected by a frayed thread in my ravaged mind, which has been pummeled over the years with alcohol and deadened by apathy and the will to survive. Sometimes I reconstruct a friendly smile, or the ghostly image of a girl stumbling from the dance with tear soaked hands covering her face, and I feel a sense of loss, that maybe I should have paid more attention.
Perhaps heaven is lacing those shoes again.
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My life. I can't complain, but some times I still do.
About Me
- Scott
- Forty something, married, two kids, barely published, dreaming, and writing -- every day.
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12 comments:
Wow! Have I mentioned lately how much I love your writing?
Yes, we should have paid more attention...but few of us do until we can feel the time slipping past us like the wind. Maybe then we take a little more time to notice.
I'm only connected by a frayed thread in my ravaged mind, which has been pummeled over the years with alcohol and deadened by apathy and the will to survive.
whoa.
Scott, I wouldn't worry about it too much. As for the worlds and the people that surround you that disappear after a while... I get nostalgic sometimes, but I think that your interactions with other people and your experienes are secondary to the growth you go through internally throughout life.
And then there is death. There are two things that might happen when you die...
1. Nothing
2. Your state of mind changes, like being drunk or really focused after fasting.
Neither of these thoughts bother me too much any more.
I like to think that past experiences and people I have known and lost touch with have gone into providing a foundation for my current self, that I am here in this very spot, the person I am at this precise moment, because of all that has preceded, remembered or forgotten. So, despite the ephemeral nature of everything, these buried memories and experiences, good and bad, live on as a kind of mulch that nourishes me still.
I know I overuse this adjective, but I can't help it. That was awesome! I may be way off base here, but somehow I feel this is a character vaguely familiar to you, but not really you.
No matter who it is, their desperaton seems to have given them insight and strength. The words are tragically beautiful. ((hugs))
Scott,
It sounds like you're having a tough time of it, bud. This too shall pass. Seriously. Take heart and consider this quote (one of my favorites):
"The reason people find it so hard
to be happy is that they always
see the past better than it was,
the present worse than it is, and
the future less resolved than it
will be." ~~~Marcel Pagnol~~~
(((BIG HUG))))
Tanya
I know what you mean...
Have been thinking a lot along those lines lately.
I can't understand all of this (it's me, not you. LOL.), but it's beautifully tragic nevertheless.
I don't need to understand. I can feel what you're saying, and just know that I've felt the same.
We're only here for a fraction of time, and the whole thought scares me.
But ya gotta do what ya gotta do in that short time you have.
Circumstance is as fickle a beast as mother nature herself.
The two of them cavort together in secret meadows, plotting the arc of lives that will never knowingly cross their own.
I'm not sure if this was a test writing piece or today's thoughts so am not sure what to say about it. I have to be honest if nothing else.
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