Saturday, June 25, 2011

i take my self-reflection medium-rare...

Cease then, nor order imperfection name:
Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.
Know thy own point: This kind, this due degree
Of blindness, weakness, Heav'n bestows on thee.
Submit.--In this, or any other sphere,
Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear:
Safe in the hand of one disposing pow'r,
Or in the natal, or the mortal hour.
All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony, not understood;
All partial evil, universal good:
And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,
One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.

- Alexander Pope, "An Essay on Man"

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Happy 'Unhappy' Father's Day

“The longer your parent lived, the more memories you have to cherish. Likewise, the more regrets you have about things you did or didn't do.” 
Maybe some day I will come back and edit this...but here are my thoughts and all their roughness...

So, I guess in some ways I’m glad my dad died when he did. Although, I wish I could have been the person today that I am now, and he could still be alive to see it. In many ways, I am neither as accomplished nor am I as strong in the way that our culture idealizes. That is scary. But, I am also a stronger individual death than I ever was before my dad’s. But I still have tunnel vision. After four years even.

Even when I was a kid, I was terrified of my father dying. I would imagine the ways in which it might happen.  And it was always sudden death. My dad and mom divorced when I was 12…but they started “divorcing” in court when I was 6, it was so drawn out and full of resent. But my dad left before I had any memories of he and my mom being together.

It’s funny how you learn to compartmentalize when you’re in emotional trauma. Even as a child. And how that compartmentalization becomes fractured memories…and a fractured sense of self.   

I won’t lie. I had good people in my childhood. But good people can be bad together. Dysfunction. Fighting. Manipulation. And love. Abnormality sometimes lends itself to good coping skills when it comes to “abnormal” situations. But it also lends itself to an inability to comprehend normality. At all costs. It’s too scary to think everything is and will ever be “okay.”

What would I do then?

Friday, February 18, 2011

tell me why / who knew

tell me why
why do i fall into these traps
tell my why
do i feed off your scraps

tell me why

tell me why
do i love what you do
and hate what you think
and  hold on to what you say
 i despise what you drink

tell me why
oh why
do you lie
make me cry
make ME lie
but i still don't wanna make YOU cry
tell me why

tell me why
our love works
with all my qwerks
you're a jerk
i love  you and i don't know why

tell me why

why do i want to come home to you
why do i want to go home to you
we don't have a home
we don't have a purpose
but i love you and i don't know why
i want to die

i love God
i love nothing else
not even me
but you
i love you

hate me please me feed me
go on and lead m e
even if you don't know you're going to
that's what you're going to do
screw me, i love you

torch me
i love you
..and you love me too
...who knew