I don't know but I believe in yesterday and what it means to bleed
ATTENTION: Downer entry. Not very amusing. At all. Read at own peril. I am happier than I've been since I was a child but I don't know how to explore that in here, better to just talk to me. I won't be talking about what I write in here with many people.
Lukasz came and went. I guess I've changed, I had things to do and wouldn't go lose a day hanging out with him. City University in London is his last chance, really. I barely dare to hope against hope. Meanwhile he's stuck there in this dysfunctional relationship with a girl several years older. I threatened him regarding his success at school. I don't consider this hypocritical if it moves him to do well. And suddenly it occurs to me that my father is just trying to get me to get my act together.
A god would probably make prayer handier, but such is the life of the agnostic. The collective human voices of hope I direct thoughts towards isn't quite so intangibly tangible. Jeanette is one of the strongest voices and she's dying of cancer and we should be praying for her but there it is: at nearly 60 years, she worked two days this week at a school clinic, after her 5th round of chemo. She keeps my mother in high spirits. She cared for her sister as her sister died of bone cancer. She keeps her family together and vital. She is still trying to solve the problems of Riverhead; mom can't help but laugh in amazement when she tells me what Jeanette's mind is on. My father speaks of her with this combination of high amusement and awe. My uncle Jon, who'd never before met her, after three minutes in her whirldwind presence muttered something about insane people. She prays with her hands. I will pray with my hands. This is what matters. We must pray with our hands.
These aren't thoughts I would ever share in this medium.
I swear you'll get a good update soon. There's the most opportunity and hope and love in my life. I still have my values and I have new self-image and I don't attack my every move and I trust myself. I realize that I don't think I'll ever get disillusioned (famous last words perhaps but nonetheless: when everyone gets down about an obstacle I generally seem to find it amusing and walk around. And I can do clever things with parantheses and colons, also including :)
Hasn't it been said that Life is at its best when you can feel it cut you to the quick?
Lukasz came and went. I guess I've changed, I had things to do and wouldn't go lose a day hanging out with him. City University in London is his last chance, really. I barely dare to hope against hope. Meanwhile he's stuck there in this dysfunctional relationship with a girl several years older. I threatened him regarding his success at school. I don't consider this hypocritical if it moves him to do well. And suddenly it occurs to me that my father is just trying to get me to get my act together.
A god would probably make prayer handier, but such is the life of the agnostic. The collective human voices of hope I direct thoughts towards isn't quite so intangibly tangible. Jeanette is one of the strongest voices and she's dying of cancer and we should be praying for her but there it is: at nearly 60 years, she worked two days this week at a school clinic, after her 5th round of chemo. She keeps my mother in high spirits. She cared for her sister as her sister died of bone cancer. She keeps her family together and vital. She is still trying to solve the problems of Riverhead; mom can't help but laugh in amazement when she tells me what Jeanette's mind is on. My father speaks of her with this combination of high amusement and awe. My uncle Jon, who'd never before met her, after three minutes in her whirldwind presence muttered something about insane people. She prays with her hands. I will pray with my hands. This is what matters. We must pray with our hands.
These aren't thoughts I would ever share in this medium.
I swear you'll get a good update soon. There's the most opportunity and hope and love in my life. I still have my values and I have new self-image and I don't attack my every move and I trust myself. I realize that I don't think I'll ever get disillusioned (famous last words perhaps but nonetheless: when everyone gets down about an obstacle I generally seem to find it amusing and walk around. And I can do clever things with parantheses and colons, also including :)
Hasn't it been said that Life is at its best when you can feel it cut you to the quick?