![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I think I've been avoiding this for a while now, but sooner or later you have to face things, and since even the concept of that's blurred a bit lately, I figure I might as well face whatever all the answers that might or mightn't be behind those questions. Face that, and ...face myself.
Of course to do that I'm going to have to set the parameters of my sample size, and just saying a year doesn't make things as simple as it should. If we're wanting to count back 365 physical days from the single point I'm standing on, then the question would only be half answered, because really that's all I have to offer. It's not anything to cry over really, or curl up inside quiet consideration as I try to work things out. I'm not going to do that anymore, not with that.
Sometimes, all it is, is space. And if I keep trying to fill it up, and looking back, and wondering all the smaller things like is it days past, or years lived that ages a thing? About magazine subscriptions, and the length of my hair, and if maybe I knew the language, I could read it all? Only languages were never my strength the way numbers were, and if I can loose those then what's that say about everything else? And that using the words of 'why' and 'happening' and 'me' and 'them' and 'lost' will always, always be forbidden because I don't think I could breathe if they were allowed.
And this is why. This is why exactly. If I keep pouring this much into all the spaces behind me, than there won't be anything leftover. It might not be a black hole, but it seems like they could share a property or two. And if it's more? Maybe for once I'm not curious enough to find out just what. All I know is that I want to move forward.
If the question's working the other way, asking about the year that I physically remember? Well even that's not as easy as it should be. From January to December, with a few extra months to remember the year by, there's a blurred part of the summer to fall that overlaps, a strange sixteen month cycle that makes up a unit of time all it's own. If that's my year?
It that's the year I'm supposed to be speaking to? Then yes, life took...maybe a whole lifetime's worth of unexpected turns. I'll deal with them, because there isn't anything else to do but that, and I'll even try to make the best of a few of them too. But it's...
A year ago there was still the hotel.
( Read more... )
Of course to do that I'm going to have to set the parameters of my sample size, and just saying a year doesn't make things as simple as it should. If we're wanting to count back 365 physical days from the single point I'm standing on, then the question would only be half answered, because really that's all I have to offer. It's not anything to cry over really, or curl up inside quiet consideration as I try to work things out. I'm not going to do that anymore, not with that.
Sometimes, all it is, is space. And if I keep trying to fill it up, and looking back, and wondering all the smaller things like is it days past, or years lived that ages a thing? About magazine subscriptions, and the length of my hair, and if maybe I knew the language, I could read it all? Only languages were never my strength the way numbers were, and if I can loose those then what's that say about everything else? And that using the words of 'why' and 'happening' and 'me' and 'them' and 'lost' will always, always be forbidden because I don't think I could breathe if they were allowed.
And this is why. This is why exactly. If I keep pouring this much into all the spaces behind me, than there won't be anything leftover. It might not be a black hole, but it seems like they could share a property or two. And if it's more? Maybe for once I'm not curious enough to find out just what. All I know is that I want to move forward.
If the question's working the other way, asking about the year that I physically remember? Well even that's not as easy as it should be. From January to December, with a few extra months to remember the year by, there's a blurred part of the summer to fall that overlaps, a strange sixteen month cycle that makes up a unit of time all it's own. If that's my year?
It that's the year I'm supposed to be speaking to? Then yes, life took...maybe a whole lifetime's worth of unexpected turns. I'll deal with them, because there isn't anything else to do but that, and I'll even try to make the best of a few of them too. But it's...
A year ago there was still the hotel.
( Read more... )
