The Moments There Aren’t Words For
Whether tragic or miraculous, I have to acknowledge them.
You know, it’s not often I’m left speechless. Those who truly know me in real life can vouch for me on that one — I usually have some shit to say.
That’s why writing comes somewhat naturally to me, I don’t run out of things to say to each and every one of you individually, nor society as a whole.
I don’t even know where it comes from, and I say that with as much genuine humility and gratitude as I’m capable of doing so with.
Some call it a gift, I view it as a duty — as a thing I have to do something with, even in the moments and on the days I don’t want to.
The moments where I just want to sit by myself alone in a room and think.
Of and about all that’s happened, and all that might. All that could have, and all that could. But they tell me that’s called anxiety and not living in the present. I call it reflection and contemplation these days.
It took living cursed to feel as blessed as I do today. It took me giving you all everything I had before my present became something of a gift and I could learn to actually be present for it, more regularly than not.
Now my days are often divine instead of dim and dull and I don’t even know who to thank for it or what to do with it all, in some moments.
So I just sit with it, still and calm. With a slight smile, sometimes I don’t even know why — but damn does it feel good.
To be okay with me, and not be so focused on the sense of impending doom that’s always going to be there, should I want to seek it out needlessly.
But I finally learned, I don’t have to. I can choose to pivot.
I can shift my attention from anarchy to arcs, arks, and angels at any time.
From resentment and inner rage to remembrance and inner peace.
Mountains become molehills I use to my advantage. However, I had to learn the hard way that the only way out, was through.
Sometimes you can’t go over, under, or around. There are some things you can’t avoid and will have to go directly through. Some, you will even have to do alone, and that goes for every last one of us. Just know you can if you choose to — if you decide to.
But also, some of it, are just things we do to ourselves or needlessly endure because we convince ourselves we’re obligated to, that we must.
We justify our own bullshit with more bullshit.
We choose, not to choose better. We subconsciously — or sometimes consciously — decide not to decide. That’s fine, as long as we can actually live with the weight of the things left undone or unsaid, and we understand that not deciding, is a decision in itself.
There aren’t words for everything and thank God for that, otherwise, I might never shut up or stop writing.
