we keep going
god where were we?
you can know where we came from, and fear where we may end up, but to think where was i is grotesque in the moments after. the moments after so many happenstances. am i wrong to think we keep going?
we keep going. when families are broken. when there is no funding. when long distance love paralyzes the heart. when days off are spent catching up on sleep. am i wrong to say, we keep going? we do. we do keep going. something ticks on in us. and it is not passion. it is not foresight. it is not planned or strategic. it is more like the fish out of water kicking. flapping. rigor mortise of the body spasmodically reacting to a reality to cling on to the last thread of life. the last thread of real. the last connection to beauty. to experience.
we keep going.
so much of what was once beautiful and sacred to us comes in waves of passive socializing, where too few a moment is spent embracing those we love and far too often spent curled up lonely and cold in a bed too comfortably shared with no one. and after five drinks, after one drink, after no drinks you find the person next to you is someone you'd shower with compliments simply because they are good at being them. and we sit there astonished that we've been recognized, after so much recognition has come and quickly gone, and we keep going. we act on memory templates. impulse. the reverberation of things happened and long ago that are no longer. the things that have trained our arms and lips and eyes and. we hug. we shake hands. we say thank you and we kiss one another. because those gestures have mattered and do matter, still. but
the one, or the few that keeps us from merely keeping on aren't there enough. and we are left to just keep on without them. and we do.
and i receive a kiss from a gemini boy named jason on the cheek. and his hand on mind. and a thank you because ive seen him and not hit on him because he was sexy but felt the need to tell him he could move audiences with the simple way his body knows how to pause... let in dialogue. let those that watch him have a space to imagine, to wander, to see... to be. i am someone who tells strangers these things. because i am someone who is alone enough to witness. and i think to myself, at the end of a long night full of so many things i might not have said, possibly should not have ever said, that we keep going.
after failures.
so many of them.
sometimes you wake up and you cant believe you have limbs and a body.
its a miracle.
it is a beautiful, painful miracle to exist.
and as the moments of consciousness become longer, you realize that the life you live is not the life you dreamed of long ago.
you wake up estranged, remembering the sunrise on the last morning where you held your love in your arms, kissed goodbye in the backseat of a beat up honda.
you drive to work questioning, this is my life?
because our hearts work hard.
the human is still there. its beat up and resilient and rough around the edges. but we keep going. we keep on kissing strangers because theyve seen us and we keep on sending text messages and voicemails that will never be returned. we keep on dreaming about a someday somewhere in the foggy distance.
because we have to.
because if we didnt, we would die.
sometimes i feel like im already dead.
but the thought of you brings me back.
you can know where we came from, and fear where we may end up, but to think where was i is grotesque in the moments after. the moments after so many happenstances. am i wrong to think we keep going?
we keep going. when families are broken. when there is no funding. when long distance love paralyzes the heart. when days off are spent catching up on sleep. am i wrong to say, we keep going? we do. we do keep going. something ticks on in us. and it is not passion. it is not foresight. it is not planned or strategic. it is more like the fish out of water kicking. flapping. rigor mortise of the body spasmodically reacting to a reality to cling on to the last thread of life. the last thread of real. the last connection to beauty. to experience.
we keep going.
so much of what was once beautiful and sacred to us comes in waves of passive socializing, where too few a moment is spent embracing those we love and far too often spent curled up lonely and cold in a bed too comfortably shared with no one. and after five drinks, after one drink, after no drinks you find the person next to you is someone you'd shower with compliments simply because they are good at being them. and we sit there astonished that we've been recognized, after so much recognition has come and quickly gone, and we keep going. we act on memory templates. impulse. the reverberation of things happened and long ago that are no longer. the things that have trained our arms and lips and eyes and. we hug. we shake hands. we say thank you and we kiss one another. because those gestures have mattered and do matter, still. but
the one, or the few that keeps us from merely keeping on aren't there enough. and we are left to just keep on without them. and we do.
and i receive a kiss from a gemini boy named jason on the cheek. and his hand on mind. and a thank you because ive seen him and not hit on him because he was sexy but felt the need to tell him he could move audiences with the simple way his body knows how to pause... let in dialogue. let those that watch him have a space to imagine, to wander, to see... to be. i am someone who tells strangers these things. because i am someone who is alone enough to witness. and i think to myself, at the end of a long night full of so many things i might not have said, possibly should not have ever said, that we keep going.
after failures.
so many of them.
sometimes you wake up and you cant believe you have limbs and a body.
its a miracle.
it is a beautiful, painful miracle to exist.
and as the moments of consciousness become longer, you realize that the life you live is not the life you dreamed of long ago.
you wake up estranged, remembering the sunrise on the last morning where you held your love in your arms, kissed goodbye in the backseat of a beat up honda.
you drive to work questioning, this is my life?
because our hearts work hard.
the human is still there. its beat up and resilient and rough around the edges. but we keep going. we keep on kissing strangers because theyve seen us and we keep on sending text messages and voicemails that will never be returned. we keep on dreaming about a someday somewhere in the foggy distance.
because we have to.
because if we didnt, we would die.
sometimes i feel like im already dead.
but the thought of you brings me back.