I want to write poetry again.
I just read a poem that makes me want to write poetry again. Wow, do I like this poem. I want to write poetry again. Better poetry than I wrote before.
I've also been longing to work on my fiction again. Oh how I long to work on my fiction again. I should do these things instead of just thinking about them. But there are so many other things to write, things that are paying me, and none of this is paying me.
And then there's the games, and oh I want to start walking again, and I need to go back on my diet (I've already started drinking water again like I should be, lots of good refreshing water).
I have to find time, and balance. There's so many things I want to do.
My brother is doing some work on our family genealogy. I think it keeps him busy, since he is lonely since his wife died. It's fascinating the things he's finding out. I like thinking of all the lives that are no longer living, but somehow alive in me. It makes me wonder if pieces of me will live on, either genetically or intellectually. Part of the reason I've been keeping this journal so long now is to have a record of my thoughts, to be more than just a name and a footnote when I die. We see the names of these relatives, signed on censuses. We learn the places they worked, the occupations, the addresses they live. I want to be remembered by more than a line on a piece of paper, than by a building that will far outlive me but won't contain any memories of me.
My kids don't care right now because they are teenagers, but someday maybe they will care to look back and see what I thought about when I was the age they will become when they do develop an interest. Or maybe they'll never care, but their children or their grandchildren will - and they'll look back through these things and find some similarities to what they think or feel.
I think that would be amazing.
I want to write poetry again. But it's hard to find the words.
I know there are people to whom music means nothing. They either don't particularly care for it, or they listen to it casually and don't really find much commonality with it. But I can't imagine life without music. It seems like there's always some song going around in my head - most of my dreams have soundtracks, and I usually wake up with some song that stays with me throughout the day- or sometimes several days in a row. Because of the Soundtracking article I've been working on about cover songs, lately that song has been the Johnny Cash version of "Hurt."
Everyone I know goes away in the end
and you can have it all, my empire of dirt
are particularly poignant the way he sings them. And if you watch the video, it's even more so. He made the video when he was dying - and it is clearly a swan song, a goodbye and a closure to a lifetime of great work. I wonder if I will have that opportunity? I can't write music. But I do want to write something that lives beyond me.
Michael's story is the work I have the most hope in right now. When I'm finally able to edit that, to put it together- I think that will be my testament, at least until a better one comes along. It will do. It will do well. I don't know what is preventing me from editing it. I make plans. I don't follow through. Maybe I'm scared to progress to the next step, and it holds me back. This is something I need to overcome.
And I want to write poetry again.
I've also been longing to work on my fiction again. Oh how I long to work on my fiction again. I should do these things instead of just thinking about them. But there are so many other things to write, things that are paying me, and none of this is paying me.
And then there's the games, and oh I want to start walking again, and I need to go back on my diet (I've already started drinking water again like I should be, lots of good refreshing water).
I have to find time, and balance. There's so many things I want to do.
My brother is doing some work on our family genealogy. I think it keeps him busy, since he is lonely since his wife died. It's fascinating the things he's finding out. I like thinking of all the lives that are no longer living, but somehow alive in me. It makes me wonder if pieces of me will live on, either genetically or intellectually. Part of the reason I've been keeping this journal so long now is to have a record of my thoughts, to be more than just a name and a footnote when I die. We see the names of these relatives, signed on censuses. We learn the places they worked, the occupations, the addresses they live. I want to be remembered by more than a line on a piece of paper, than by a building that will far outlive me but won't contain any memories of me.
My kids don't care right now because they are teenagers, but someday maybe they will care to look back and see what I thought about when I was the age they will become when they do develop an interest. Or maybe they'll never care, but their children or their grandchildren will - and they'll look back through these things and find some similarities to what they think or feel.
I think that would be amazing.
I want to write poetry again. But it's hard to find the words.
I know there are people to whom music means nothing. They either don't particularly care for it, or they listen to it casually and don't really find much commonality with it. But I can't imagine life without music. It seems like there's always some song going around in my head - most of my dreams have soundtracks, and I usually wake up with some song that stays with me throughout the day- or sometimes several days in a row. Because of the Soundtracking article I've been working on about cover songs, lately that song has been the Johnny Cash version of "Hurt."
Everyone I know goes away in the end
and you can have it all, my empire of dirt
are particularly poignant the way he sings them. And if you watch the video, it's even more so. He made the video when he was dying - and it is clearly a swan song, a goodbye and a closure to a lifetime of great work. I wonder if I will have that opportunity? I can't write music. But I do want to write something that lives beyond me.
Michael's story is the work I have the most hope in right now. When I'm finally able to edit that, to put it together- I think that will be my testament, at least until a better one comes along. It will do. It will do well. I don't know what is preventing me from editing it. I make plans. I don't follow through. Maybe I'm scared to progress to the next step, and it holds me back. This is something I need to overcome.
And I want to write poetry again.