We think that babies cry when they want something. It's their only way of communicating to the world that they need help.
Do you think babies cry just because sometimes? Just because they feel sad and overwhelmed and confused? I think that's why I cry sometimes.
Today was a good day that just felt hard and bad ever since I woke up. Every mistake felt heavier and every victory felt fleeting. Nothing clicked or connected, I wanted to get lost in something and float but instead it all felt like segmented pieces in a messy pile. Some days the pile feels intricate, other days it's just messy.
Do you ever feel like that?
I haven't stretched in a while and I ate ketchup today with my french fries. My mom took a picture of me at the bar with dad but I didn't like it so she deleted it. One spot in the very middle of my back hurts very much, and all of a sudden I notice my bad posture.
Every intersection I passed I feared I had missed a Stop sign. The sun went down and I didn't even notice. I didn't feel hunger, but ate out of habit.
I feel like I'm constantly scrounging around for words to communicate what it's like here. But words have never fully satisfied me. That's why Art! I read some poems but they weren't the right ones and I listened to music but it wasn't the right kind. I wanted to make and sit and be but I had a day full of people wanting words, trying to understand. Me trying to make them understand. Me trying to understand.
As I drove down the road I realized that nobody else will really ever understand. I will never understand. Is it worth it to try? I suppose it's a way to pass the time.
I'm wearing all black today. My black pants, a plain black sweatshirt, my striped black hat. The one that is striped black and light black, black and light black. Underneath though, I wear my Life is Swell shirt. And the tips of my glasses are colorful. Also, my shoes are very bright green. I'm green. I'm growing.
My mom always tells me that everything is worse at night. I think it was David Sedaris that said of his sister, "one minute she'll throw plates against the wall and the next she'll make a mosaic with the pieces." That's the way I feel. Like smashing things loudly and then quietly and peacefully rearranging the pieces. It's not "worse", it's just confusing.
Hopefully tomorrow will come and hopefully the sun will emerge from the water and hopefully it will feel like new, Unexplored Territory of Day. And if it does not, hopefully I will not try to understand it. I'll wear a different color tomorrow.
My tea bag string read, "Nature does not hurry, but everything still gets done."
Thank you for listening, for reading, for trying to understand.