Monday, February 23, 2009

I've been away

So much has happened since I last posted. I'll get to it but I'd like to mention that while I haven't been updating my etsy store I have been doing a lot of thinking and have been doing quite a bit of writing. It used to be my way of dealing with the world and with my emotions and I stopped and some point and I'm trying to get back, because it was, and is, very helpful.

So the point being that I'm going to be posting some of that writing here since this is sort of a log of the creative goings on in my life and I've rather neglected my readers (all 5 of you)

So without further ado here is my first blog-piece. It has to do with memory and grief. I tend to mull these things over a lot. I may revise it some more and some point because it is a little rough but I feel like I like it right now and will loose it upon the world for at least a little while.



It wasn't the Scissor Sisters was it?

I asked him if he remembered what the song was, because it was important and I had forgotten and it meant something. He remembered the sombrero, the toy guitar, my impromptu karaoke and the soggy foos-ball table but the song, even the band is lost to history now I guess. I spit it all out in a rush, my question too specific with faked casualness and poor reception on my cell. I knew he wouldn't remember since I had always loved him more than he loved me, but it was ok, it was always so, so ok, because when you were with him it was like you were his only and best friend in the whole world. I never felt jelous.

He would introduce you to everyone, tell you things about them, tell you hilarious stories and he would listen too. He was just so there. He tried to look out for me, he really did when I started going crazy and alienating everyone with wantonness, carelessness and a selfish drive to try very desperately to feel alive while my insides went numb. I was careless and he fought with me and I pushed and chaffed and then he was gone. He moved and so very far in thought and space. In estimation too, I believe. I feel a dull ache in my chest when those happy memories of silly, destructive. and oh-so-drunken behavior come to mind. They were so brief and I miss him and our friendship. Neither of us remember the song anymore.