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In The Beginning……..

July 17, 2008

I was rummaging through an old keepsake box of mine today and happened upon a couple of old journals that date back to the conception, of the end of normal for me. Here’s a excerpt from one of them.

“The thoughts in my head are on strike today,not willing to flow out on the paper. As I sit here and try to write. I can’t seem to find a clear notion of where to begin. I just find myself mesmerized with the scratched out marks on the paper of all my false starts. I keep scribbling over them again and again.Which in some strange way seems to be a metaphor of my life in general. To many false starts,no clear manuscript and decorated with lots of blacked out areas that show my mistakes that never seem to go away. Coloring over them does feel somewhat soothing, plus I feel some sense of being productive scratching away.

Two hours have passed since my first effort to find clarity. I just got up and went inside to check the time. I noticed myself as I passed the mirror on the wall. I walked closer to inspect myself. It’s amazing ,I’m still here. Externally you would never even know there’s mutiny going on inside me.So I turn on some music to inspire me or at least hit on some emotion that will fuel me. The Counting Crows usually do the trick. There’s a part in one song that says “Waiting for the moon to come and light me up inside . I am waiting for the telephone to tell me I’m alive” I can identify with that line. Waiting for something or someone who will reassure me that I’m OK or maybe even good. Maybe that thought is underneath all the other bullshit thoughts of the insults and put downs that take up a lot of space. That are breeding more and more self-doubt and sucking the last breath out of the memory of being good.
Funny when I remember feeling like I was a good thing. I see myself at like 5 years old. I was perfect! Innocent and unaware of the evil people with their ignorant tongues that would change her and lead her to believe differently about herself. I mourn her and wish I could be more like her.
Amazing I didn’t integrate her into who I am today. Maybe because I don’t want to taint her or mark her image ,with the damaged goods theory that capitalizes here now. She seems better off, left as a far away dream of a better time.”

WOW! Holy shit I was depressed! I think that’s why I haven’t opened up that keepsake box before now. I was a little scared of how those entries would affect me, but I’ve become a firm believer in to know where you’re going to have to come to terms with where you came from. Amazingly enough,rewriting that out and somewhat revisiting that time leaves me feeling happy and hopeful. Because that person isn’t even a reflection of who I am today.I guess it goes to show that time does heal all wounds, no matter how deep they are.

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6 comments

  1. Time helps most things …… except getting old, then it is really of no help at all ……..


  2. LOL….that is soooo true DP!! Good one!!


  3. Is it? – good grief ………. tee hee


  4. I think aging is hard on the body but good for the mind.I don’t think you worry as much about the past as you get older. So I say let the years roll by!!!


  5. I love the title of this Blog… you definately already feel like a kindred spirit. Looking forward to having something new to read. Stop by and say hello…


  6. Endless Dreamer,
    I must say I fear for you if you see me as a kindred spirit. YIKES!



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