Memory

Sunday, May 26, 2024 @ 20:58 MDT

“...when the monster turns man, don’t know how to react...”

Something I enjoy doing periodically is sifting through my old journal entries, poems, song lyrics, notes app on my phone, and other ramblings and writings I have collected throughout this little life. They remind me of who I am, who I was, who I am not, how far I have come, and how far I still have to go. To grow. Among other things.

Reading. Writing. Reviewing. Renewing. Pleasures that have become increasingly more difficult within the past year, since I have no way of knowing which of my writings the stalker has seen. I know he read many of my most personal entries, the majority of which he was not granted access. I found it difficult to write anything for months; save for sparse, sporadic notes in my phone. Some words here. A line there.

In time, the words and the music flowed through me once more. I offered them space to breathe. Not everything I had written was decent, but the process itself had more meaning than you could even imagine. I was finally writing again!

Most things I do are slow typically, but lately that has been amplified times [one hundred].  My life has slowed down in ways I never thought possible.  Some of this has been necessary, for which I am grateful. And some of this has me frustratingly (literally) ripping my hair out wishing more people could just understand. Would.

I sometimes wish so desperately to skip to the part where everything works out, and I have written my book, and I am using music in ways I had always imagined to help others. But this is not life. I see it so clearly, and I hold onto this image. Especially when the oppressive heat of the long days that lie ahead suffocates me and the nights grow dim.

I am not sure why I was given this life, but I do know I am grateful for it. I am proud of myself for constantly seeking truth, even when it leaves me with answers I hoped had alternate explanations. Even when I am alienated fighting for what is right because some people have no heart in their hollow tin bodies, nor the courage of a lion, nor a brain within their fragile straw frames, to guide them in seeing through a wizard manipulator’s smoke and mirrors and bag of shiny tricks.

Not everyone believes survivors. But some people sure do support liars. The story they tell is compelling, perhaps everything you want to hear. Applause. No round. Did you ever think there is a reason for that?

I will always gather courage and seek truth. Even if I do not like the answers. Even if I am left with no one. Abandoned. Stranded. An island. Myself.

For what are science and truth, but constantly questioning? Not being satisfied with what you think you know, even if you think you know it? Proving yourself wrong time and time again in favor of new truths. And abandoning those truths in favor of better ones. A quest.

Letting go... gracefully.

Have you learned nothing?

If you look, you will find that beauty is everywhere. Knowledge is found in curiosity. Questioning. Accepting what you do not know. Placing yourself in the role of student more often than teacher. Humility. Kindness. Shifting perspective. Offering a seat for the misfits.

And remembering there are many things for which to be thankful. Mostly... I am truly thankful for wisdom found in nature. Patterns. Simplicity. Learning from circles and cyclones. Octopuses and oceans. Rivers and radios. Neutrons and nebula. Beauties and beasts and organization among the chaos. Writings in the thrall.

“...although she’s gone, although it’s over, a memory hangs on, a memory...”

~ kina grannis