screaming shouting shrieking

i never realized how much i longed for the quiet stillness of peaceful silence,

the kind of tranquility that comes when you know that the absence of sound is not the calm before a storm,

i also never knew how lonely it could feel,

to wake up in a space,

devoid of the liveliness that used to fill it,

even if i personally wasn't always ready to face fellow humans,

there is comfort in the undeniable reminder that you aren't as alone as you might sometimes feel.

i realized that i write what i wish i read what i wish i was what i long to be.

my writing is a little whiny sometimes,

i'm figuring out how to balance dreaming and doing,

how to honor and let go simultaneously,

while staying grounded in what is,

what is?

i only know what i think i know.

is that an excuse?

weaponized incompetence?

ignorance is bliss, they say.

do you agree?

if you never know there can be better,

if you aren't sure that the unknown can bring you what you need,

are you blissfully unaware or woefully uninformed?

0-0-0

living carelessly, living callously,

does that count as living or simply surviving?

in a state between simply existing and truly trying.

my dear beloved friend, this week, told me that she doesn't think there can or should be any judgement on how people mourn the loss of a parent. perhaps silly, but to hear that it isn't silly or weak or dramatic of me to continue to carry the grief was an affirmation i didn't know i needed to hear. to be told that how i hold the feelings that still exist is purely mine and i shouldn't judge myself on how i honor the loss that can never be replaced was liberating to say the least.

x - x - x