what has four legs, looks like a raven and a writing desk?
if i can count how many crumpled papers and torn pages in
life i have thrown into nothingness i'm pretty much sure
i'm running out of pages to flip the next time i open my
book.
sure need to buy a new one- hard bound at the least. this
one i have had for at least 20 years was flimsy to say
the least. close to worthless but i'm still keeping it.
it made me who i am today. of course i've thrown and
burned most parts of it but i still quite remember some
of it. it's mine after all. i can do anything with it. in
this case burn them and let the ashes fly to nowhere. i
could care less.
i found a new one in a bookstore one day just after new
year. its a black snake- skin hard bound journal with a
lock. it looked like it could keep a lot of secrets so i
bought it rather than the journal with something written
in the cover something like a line from a movie. i
forgot.
there's just something special about it. as i unwrapped
it, there were several pages in it with some writings i
couldn't help to ponder on.
i usually write in my journals sappy stories about
unrequited love and how life was so unfair and how it
takes away everything you have but never had.
this time it was different.
i was writing about how life gives you the best but you
don't see it because you were busy looking for something
else. i was writing about falling in and out of love and
falling right back in.
i was busy writing about letting go of things you want in
order to make room for the things you need and things you
have prayed for.
there was something in it that kept me writing about the
good things in life rather than the tragic experiences it
shuns in your face.
and for the first time i was not afraid to look back on
every page i wrote on.
life i have thrown into nothingness i'm pretty much sure
i'm running out of pages to flip the next time i open my
book.
sure need to buy a new one- hard bound at the least. this
one i have had for at least 20 years was flimsy to say
the least. close to worthless but i'm still keeping it.
it made me who i am today. of course i've thrown and
burned most parts of it but i still quite remember some
of it. it's mine after all. i can do anything with it. in
this case burn them and let the ashes fly to nowhere. i
could care less.
i found a new one in a bookstore one day just after new
year. its a black snake- skin hard bound journal with a
lock. it looked like it could keep a lot of secrets so i
bought it rather than the journal with something written
in the cover something like a line from a movie. i
forgot.
there's just something special about it. as i unwrapped
it, there were several pages in it with some writings i
couldn't help to ponder on.
i usually write in my journals sappy stories about
unrequited love and how life was so unfair and how it
takes away everything you have but never had.
this time it was different.
i was writing about how life gives you the best but you
don't see it because you were busy looking for something
else. i was writing about falling in and out of love and
falling right back in.
i was busy writing about letting go of things you want in
order to make room for the things you need and things you
have prayed for.
there was something in it that kept me writing about the
good things in life rather than the tragic experiences it
shuns in your face.
and for the first time i was not afraid to look back on
every page i wrote on.