She stands in silence and bows her head. She stares at her hands, trying to ignore the stares. She feels unwelcome in this place, unsure of why she's come. She owes him nothing, she came for herself. To see the face, to try to understand. It's too late to ask why. The answer would have made no difference anyway. She thinks back on her life. Growing up, all the milestones. All the times he should have been there, but wasn't. And she cries.
"Why weren't you there?" she whispers. "Why didn't you love me?"
His lifeless face just stares at her. And she cries.
"This is all your fault." she blames him. For all the years, all the heartache. He was her weakness. He was the reason she closed herself off. And she cries. For all the hurt, and the nights she cried herself to sleep.
She watched his family out of the corner of his eye. She touched his face. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't forgive.
"I will never forgive you."
Suddenly feeling out of place, she turned around and walked away.
And she cries.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
it has occurred to me that sometimes you don't know the whole story. It has also occurred to me that sometimes the story may have more than one version. If those versions all come from the same person, who also happens to be the origin of the story. If that person tells different versions of their story to different people, which one are you supposed to believe? You have to consider their motives for telling each person the version they give. The reason for telling one person a story might be that they've had a bit of alcohol and are telling you the truth. Another version might come about because they are trying to impress a certain person, or maybe they're just telling that person what they want to hear, or what would be acceptable to that person. There may come a time when the two versions of the same story meet. And it may come out that there are two versions of the same story. Is trying to impress someone really worth what's going to happen when that person finds out you lied? And what if the version you told to said person was the truth? how will they know? It begs the question, at which point does exaggerating become lying? Wouldn't it just be easier to tell everyone the truth and let destiny take it's course? Or perhaps give each person to make a decision/judgement based on the truth, as opposed to a version of the truth. Or maybe this is all just a big ball of confusion. Either way, it all boils down to one thing that you learned when you were little: honesty is the best policy. always
she writes
she wants to cry. instead she writes
she stresses. she writes.
she wants to scream. instead she writes.
even in happiness. she writes.
to herself.
to you.
to everyone.
she writes a little.
she writes a lot.
early in the morning.
late at night.
she writes.
she stresses. she writes.
she wants to scream. instead she writes.
even in happiness. she writes.
to herself.
to you.
to everyone.
she writes a little.
she writes a lot.
early in the morning.
late at night.
she writes.
Monday, September 26, 2005
meditation
Determined not to let it get to her, she jutted out her chin, chanting her mantra silently. She knew it wouldn't be long before the tears she was holding back would break through her wall.
"I won't do this here." she thought to herself and she counted slowly to one hundred. The past week had been a roller coaster ride. She needed this time away. She needed a way to relieve the stress. Today it was the song on the radio while she drove. She had no destination, and no time frame for getting there. She rolled the windows down and turned up the radio. The wind blowing her hair, she sang as loud as she could. to every song she knew. If she smoked, she would have gone through an entire pack of cigarettes that day. She didn't know if it was the singing, or the driving, or maybe a combination of everything, but her soul felt different that day. Lighter. She opened her eyes. Though she never left the room, her soul had travelled miles from where it had been.
"I won't do this here." she thought to herself and she counted slowly to one hundred. The past week had been a roller coaster ride. She needed this time away. She needed a way to relieve the stress. Today it was the song on the radio while she drove. She had no destination, and no time frame for getting there. She rolled the windows down and turned up the radio. The wind blowing her hair, she sang as loud as she could. to every song she knew. If she smoked, she would have gone through an entire pack of cigarettes that day. She didn't know if it was the singing, or the driving, or maybe a combination of everything, but her soul felt different that day. Lighter. She opened her eyes. Though she never left the room, her soul had travelled miles from where it had been.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
a new beginning
I already have a blog that I write in. I created this one for 2 reasons. The first is that I like the site and the second is because I'm trying to do some writing. Not normal every day life stuff. More like opinions on things, creative writings, and the sort. We'll see how it goes.
