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What doesn't kill us, doesn't kill us.
In the end, that's all I can really be sure of. It doesn't make us stronger. It doesn't make us weaker, either. It just leaves a body not dead. Still living, sometimes still standing, and nearly always facing whatever's coming next. And that whatever? It's always coming next, even if it's so far away that it is the point on the horizon that the road begins. A narrow spec of black we're taught to draw lines from to trick our eyes into seeing things that aren't there. A paper road to physical places we just can't go yet. Because it was really there, all the time.
That might've just made sense to me, so I'll get on with answering the question.
I've nearly died a dozen different times, at the hands, claws, sticks and collars of a dozen different things. But I didn't die. They didn't kill me. And that's just the basics, the clearest chapters to read through. In the beginning we're born, and in the end, we die. There's only so much control we have there really, only so much that we have to work with. I was born my folks' idea, in a small San Antonio hospital, right about five hours into what I got told over an over was an easy labor from a good baby. As much as that can really mean. And I'll die, somewhere outside of San Antonio, most likely, more than just an idea, but hopefully still a pretty good girl.
The biggest details of that story aren't going to change. Birth. Death. But all the stuff in the middle, and all the chapters in between? That's the story I get to tell, through my voice, and my choices. All the up and down and good and bad and in between, that's mine. That's where a body really grows, and learns. That's where the real hurting can come too. Not the stuff left just for the last chapter, the last hurts. Because really, that can't go on nearly as long as the stuff we live with from day to day and even year to year. But that's also where I do my growing.
That's me, in the messy middle, learning, and growing, and getting stronger by and by. The beginning, and the end have always been in place. I'd like to keep getting my education through the pieces I can move.
I guess, for some, that's exactly what 'not killing' and 'growing stronger', means. But it's not the action, or reaction that a person gets strength from. It's the person that has the strength to take action.
What hasn't killed me yet, hasn't killed me. Whatever else I am, or will be? I take responsibility for.
In the end, that's all I can really be sure of. It doesn't make us stronger. It doesn't make us weaker, either. It just leaves a body not dead. Still living, sometimes still standing, and nearly always facing whatever's coming next. And that whatever? It's always coming next, even if it's so far away that it is the point on the horizon that the road begins. A narrow spec of black we're taught to draw lines from to trick our eyes into seeing things that aren't there. A paper road to physical places we just can't go yet. Because it was really there, all the time.
That might've just made sense to me, so I'll get on with answering the question.
I've nearly died a dozen different times, at the hands, claws, sticks and collars of a dozen different things. But I didn't die. They didn't kill me. And that's just the basics, the clearest chapters to read through. In the beginning we're born, and in the end, we die. There's only so much control we have there really, only so much that we have to work with. I was born my folks' idea, in a small San Antonio hospital, right about five hours into what I got told over an over was an easy labor from a good baby. As much as that can really mean. And I'll die, somewhere outside of San Antonio, most likely, more than just an idea, but hopefully still a pretty good girl.
The biggest details of that story aren't going to change. Birth. Death. But all the stuff in the middle, and all the chapters in between? That's the story I get to tell, through my voice, and my choices. All the up and down and good and bad and in between, that's mine. That's where a body really grows, and learns. That's where the real hurting can come too. Not the stuff left just for the last chapter, the last hurts. Because really, that can't go on nearly as long as the stuff we live with from day to day and even year to year. But that's also where I do my growing.
That's me, in the messy middle, learning, and growing, and getting stronger by and by. The beginning, and the end have always been in place. I'd like to keep getting my education through the pieces I can move.
I guess, for some, that's exactly what 'not killing' and 'growing stronger', means. But it's not the action, or reaction that a person gets strength from. It's the person that has the strength to take action.
What hasn't killed me yet, hasn't killed me. Whatever else I am, or will be? I take responsibility for.
