maybe
is everything a phase? i think so, for the most part. i am sorry, i often write about reading my older posts. i guess, that's because i actually read them. though, i don't want to give you the wrong idea. i don't want to give you the idea that i am living in me past because i am not. praise the lord, i am not living in the past. that place frightens me, for the most part.
i don't even remember a majority of the things that i posted about. was i even there? probably not.
i think i am just analyzing how i write. i want to write. i enjoy writing. i know how to spell, for the most part. i have been known to put a decent sentence together, on occasion. i think i overuse commas. i am okay with that, i guess. i just use them as if they were a pause or a breath, or something. i fucking love commas! and i don't know how to use them. i really don't know how to use punctuation, actually. did i ever pay any attention to my lessons? wtf?! where was i all day? in imagination land? probably. i wish i had been a better student. i have always been a very distracted person. is it genetic?!
i wish i could have known my father more. i wish for this even though i know i can't change the fact that i hardly know him and him me. still, i think we would have liked one another very much. i wonder if he was distracted. i imagine he may have been.
sometimes when i am alone, i tell him that i love him, even though i am naturally not certain if he exists at all anymore. i hope that he does. i believe that he does, most of the time. i do.
maybe he is in a place where he cannot see or hear me but thinks about me often. who knows what happens after this reality's death? does anyone know the answer to this question?
i think about death often. maybe not so much death but most certainly the possibilities of what may come next. there are so many great and practiced hypotheses of life but i can never agree wholeheartedly with one.
i have some ideas of my own.
some other time. my butt hurts from sitting here.
i don't even remember a majority of the things that i posted about. was i even there? probably not.
i think i am just analyzing how i write. i want to write. i enjoy writing. i know how to spell, for the most part. i have been known to put a decent sentence together, on occasion. i think i overuse commas. i am okay with that, i guess. i just use them as if they were a pause or a breath, or something. i fucking love commas! and i don't know how to use them. i really don't know how to use punctuation, actually. did i ever pay any attention to my lessons? wtf?! where was i all day? in imagination land? probably. i wish i had been a better student. i have always been a very distracted person. is it genetic?!
i wish i could have known my father more. i wish for this even though i know i can't change the fact that i hardly know him and him me. still, i think we would have liked one another very much. i wonder if he was distracted. i imagine he may have been.
sometimes when i am alone, i tell him that i love him, even though i am naturally not certain if he exists at all anymore. i hope that he does. i believe that he does, most of the time. i do.
maybe he is in a place where he cannot see or hear me but thinks about me often. who knows what happens after this reality's death? does anyone know the answer to this question?
i think about death often. maybe not so much death but most certainly the possibilities of what may come next. there are so many great and practiced hypotheses of life but i can never agree wholeheartedly with one.
i have some ideas of my own.
some other time. my butt hurts from sitting here.