J keeps asking me to write
… I keep neglecting. What’s the point – everything has already been said. What’s
the point of reiterating something that everyone already knows?
Is something left to put
down? Is there something different to escape? Do the mountains we face make
that much of a difference in someone else’s hike? Is the person I feel I’m
losing or have already lost have that much of a voice left to speak into
someone else? I keep reading that I’m a
vessel – that my body and life are now just roadways to make someone else’s. How do you find a medium? How do I find a
voice, be a vessel and speak life when there seems so little to say?
People keep messing up –
people keep using, sucking life out of the ones around them – there is never
end to misery. There is never end to choices to stay in misery or be rid of it,
but the misery seems to keep coming all the same. J keeps showing me that you choose to be a
victim; no one puts you in that spot – even if they hurt you … even if it seems
logical to be prey. And I’ve been finding he’s right – amidst all my lack of
words, I’ve found a deep truth. There is no holding misery over my head, but me.
And when I look and cling to a Truth stronger than me, my head holds high when
the logical is to be prey.
Is there still something
left for me to say? Do you still need me to be a voice when I function on
little sleep, someone else’s schedule and an endless need for groceries and
meals? Is there someone still here that can give something to you? I really don’t
know anymore, but J seems to think so.
