I'm not sure what's going on with me lately, but I can't force myself to write here. Maybe it's because since I've been on break from school I haven't done anything exciting, and if you follow on me on Twitter, or Facebook, or Instagram, then you already know what I'm doing, so I don't feel the need to be redundant by over-describing all of that here. But I miss writing, and I miss this space, so I decided to clear out my draft folder. I have FIFTY-EIGHT unfinished posts sitting in there. I'm sure I'll never finish them all, but here is a start:
bones - summer 2012
I went to Oklahoma a couple of weekends ago to pick up a piece of furniture that belonged to my grandfather.
I used to have nitemares, shortly after he passed, about him dying in really awful ways, and then in a time lapse/stop motion speed I would see his body decomposing until it was nothing more than bones. I don't remember when the dreams stopped, but I can remember every single detail of certain ones, and they still haunt me when I let them.
****
today
I came across this Oscar Wilde quote a few days ago and I've been thinking about it since:
bones - summer 2012
I went to Oklahoma a couple of weekends ago to pick up a piece of furniture that belonged to my grandfather.
I got to the intersection outside of his neighborhood, and I noticed that the apartment building that has always served as a landmark of sorts to me was no longer what it used to be. It had been damaged during a recent tornado, and was no longer recognizable. The bones were the only thing left.
I used to have nitemares, shortly after he passed, about him dying in really awful ways, and then in a time lapse/stop motion speed I would see his body decomposing until it was nothing more than bones. I don't remember when the dreams stopped, but I can remember every single detail of certain ones, and they still haunt me when I let them.
****
today
I came across this Oscar Wilde quote a few days ago and I've been thinking about it since:
"Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
However true it might be (who knows, really?) when I think of death, I don't think of it like this. I see worms and bones.
I went to a psychic last year, without intentions of connecting with or even talking about my Grandfather, I was really just looking for some direction, but the entire session ended up being about him, because he kept interrupting. (Take from this what you will, I went in to the meeting skeptical, but with an open mind, and the psychic told me things that confirmed his ability.)
He told me my Grandfather had regrets, a lot of them, but he also told me he was smiling the whole time they were communicating. I found a little bit of comfort in that. I feel like he forgave life, and is at peace.