Only-Child Syndrome

Which one?

Which hurts worse ... a broken bone or a broken hurt?

Being a lone or being lonely?

Doing the right thing or being right?

Tool ... Before & After

This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.
Alive, I

Tool has always been someone else’s band. They once belonged to Phuz, Mueller, and most recently Wanderlust. They are a band I’ve always appreciated it, rocked to when played but never ever felt like there was a chapter in my life that they filled.

Tonight I stood with three good friends knowing that Wanderlust was somewhere in the same venue and knowing that some of what I would hear would be music that I saw threw his eyes more so than anyone I know. The part I didn’t expect is when those words would take over and no longer would they belong to him or anyone else; no they actually depicted me and my life. Tool finally told a story all of my own.

I now also own a brand new pair of boy shorts and a t-shirt (thanks 5’10”) and it’s not because someone else will enjoy them, but because I no longer need a boy to field Tool for me. Tonight I came full circle with a band I have listened to for years, but tonight in that small theater I HEARD them, and hearing them for the first time made them mine.

 

 

Hey LOOK I remember I still have a blog ...

I thought that after school was out and my aunt passed that I would find words again in a different way. I have still postponed finishing the project that I started in my class last semester as I’m  not sure enough time has passed to get the words just right.

As stuck in my head as I am I figured I’d be post after post almost daily as there really is so much going on?  Instead I’m blocked and my sleep is paying the price. I need a mental and emotional dump and would say today I got pretty close although it didn’t do enough to make me want to write.

This post in itself is just me saying nothing more but I haven’t abandoned my blog as much as the words that fuel it have abandoned me. I know they’ll be back and I’ve even considered 100 word drabbles for a while just so that I’m actively putting something in writing. If you don’t know what a drabble is, you’ll see. I don’t know how well it works for “creative  non-fiction” but we can give it a try and see if slowly the urge to fill a page comes back to me.

So yes I am alive. I still know how to type. I still have stories to share. I just don’t have any means of getting to them right this second. Don’t give up on me just yet.