I swear I’m trying not to cry,
But it comes every time I think of you;
I keep asking myself why:
It turns out I’m a traitor, but a loyal one too.
I wonder if you think of me,
Or if you’ve traded your stray for a much better breed;
One that stays where you can see
And isn’t prone to making of a friendship lost, a need.
I don’t know if you feel like I do;
If you’re just waiting for an overture to come.
But I’ve given what little I know how to,
And still it seems our friendship’s done.
I believe in happy endings;
But I think this story might not end that way.
Sometimes there’s an inevitable end to things
That’s neither good nor bad, but just a sad cessation of yesterday.
***
Sorry again for my scarcity; I fear that may very well continue. I’m eager not to slip as deep into my wallowing as before, but when I try sitting down to write with positivity in mind, I immediately go blank. The closest I can often get to positivity, it seems, is a lack of negativity. Which frequently translates to silence.
In this case, I still may not have made it into the Sunshine & Rainbows department, but honest sadness is different from giving in to frustration, and this was very much on my mind.
Sorry yet again for posts unread, and comments neglected; my mind has been elsewhere. Don’t let that make you think I do not notice, or do not care; I notice your kindness, and care for your thoughts. My own thoughts, however, are not always suited to the challenge of being revealed, and thus I leave things for another day…
Writer In Retrospect 
Whatever you are going through, I hope you solve it soon enough.
I’ve been thinking about poetry recently. I used to dabble a little in it. Just briefly. When I discovered I could. The past couple of weeks, I’ve been feeling a pull towards it. I haven’t given it a try because I’m skeptical of my talents. But I did wonder what made me even think about it. Well, it’s the emotions and mood. Yes, I’ve written some positive pieces, but it flows easier when I’m not feeling all that great. OK, I’m rambling now. Anyway. Stay golden!
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Try it! Everybody’s terrible at first. I had forced myself to wait a couple of years, writing on and off, before daring to start the blog. I’m still not 100% convinced I’m not STILL terrible. But if it helps you to express something, then it’s served its purpose.
And it’s not so much of a ramble. At the very least, I think I understand. We’re used to speaking in a certain way. We’re used to keeping certain things to ourselves, hidden from strangers and loved ones alike. But, with poetry, it’s like speaking in another language. It’s like telling someone you love them in French, or singing opera in Italian. Or saying you’ll bash someone’s skull in, in Klingon. Some things are just easier to say in a different language. But, now I think I’M rambling…
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Not at all! Makes perfect sense.
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I find the only way to get to the positive is to first let out all the negativity… that’s how it is for me anyways. With any form of writing.
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Quite so, Eliza. When we bottle up negativity, it ferments, and intoxicates the other emotions.
We wake the next morning to a beaut of a hangover, headache included, and mystification over what we actually did last night.
Best to offload the negativity, freeing up room for something better.
These are, I hope, more than just an outsider’s blandishments. I recognize, in what you and Rachel write, a place my own mind was…when? At times it seems a lifetime ago, at others, merely an hour gone by.
If only I knew then what I do now. With that in mind, may I be of service?
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Ah! But what to do when the negativity just doesn’t seem to end? Therein lies my problem. I’ve lost the line where the one ends and the other begins. I need to learn how to express the things that weigh on me without losing sight of the things that lift me up. But to do that, I have to unlearn an awful lot of bad habits, and that is quite the daunting task.
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It’s a conundrum I sometimes struggle with. If I’ll just stay with the negative I tend not to write… because it makes it worse.
Thinking of you and sending hugs
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Astute observation, Rachel. While sadness isn’t “ideal,” at least not most of the time, it’s far preferable to numbness. For one thing, it’s “something,” a sign the emotions still function as planned, and that they bestir the soul.
Sadness makes the heart ache, as it contrasts longingly with the hope that still beats elsewhere, yet somewhere, within us. That latter part is our ultimate salvation.
Please, no need to fret over your pace of late. The next time you offer something, we’ll be here to receive it in gratitude. Nobody’s standing here with a clipboard and a stopwatch, a disapproving scowl already unholstered and ready to go. Well, I may be, but probably not for the reasons you’d think.
Point is, we all are tourists here. When something gawk-worthy appears, we all are going to want to have a look, and surely will share some comments.
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Hah! Are you sure? I can definitely picture all the clipboards. But come, do tell: what are these reasons that I’d probably not think?
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Yeah, as if you don’t know, Rachel.
For one thing, you never shaved your head as the Eternal Light ordered us. You haven’t forgotten the cult already, have you?
Plus, you promised we’d go berry-picking with Clint Eastwood, Carmel-by-the-Sea being just over the ridge from strawberry country.
Haven’t seen one squint yet, nor heard air being drawn over the teeth.
“Seems to me, unless a berry’s looking to get hurt, real bad, it’ll jump into this basket, all nice and cooperative-like.”
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Lol! No, no, I haven’t forgotten the cult… But I WAS hoping the great Eternal Light might have forgotten me. I would much rather keep my hair.
Berry-picking with Clint Eastwood, on the other hand… Now that one seems to have slipped my mind. And anyway, it will probably have to wait until the day I get famous. So give it a month and seven years — we’ll see.
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