while studying math my mind often wanders to my first love. Language. Today is the English language that’s spoken here in the states.
I’m just thinking about how in the American language there are so many different dialects and I’m curious as to how our language will evolve in the next 10 to 20 years. Especially when you look at how the younger generation speaks. I hardly understand half of the words they use.
Anyways. That’s what I’d rather be studying right now. But duty calls and numbers win for the time being.
……Makes sense and maybe that’s the point. I hope it is. Because I’m tired of searching for a point to everything.
You know that saying?- “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.”
Yea, that’s a lie.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t exist.
My heart hurts, like, a lot lately.
I’m tired of it. I thought I was okay but I’m just not.
I’ve got my stones all in a row. Each one ready to be stepped upon and forgotten.
The earth takes these stones and hides them in her deep soil. The stones suffocate there and eventually stop being stones but begin to exist as something different. Now they’ve become one with the earth again and start all over.
How in the world do people do it? I wanna know the secret. I’ve always felt as though I’m walking around in a bubble. No one else, just me. I just can’t seem to get things right. When one part of my life is going well another falters. I guess that is normal. No one’s got it ALL figured out right?!
“Lottando” is a word I’ve been saying in my head all day. It’s Italian for struggle. Lottando makes you stronger, causes you to change your views on things. Causes you to make changes within you.
I’m just blabbering now
My last week or so I’ve dealt with a lot from my past. It keeps creeping up on me slowly. Speaking to my birth father for the first time in years was very hard. All the baggage that comes along with sustaining a relationship with him seems to be not worth it. All the things I thought I’d forgiven him for have once again made a home in my heart, and I just don’t think I’m strong enough this time. He’s a taker. He takes and takes and gives nothing in return. I’m a lover. I love and love and get nothing in return. I think I’m gonna close that door again , lock it and throw away the key.
Easier said than done because no matter how much he hurts me I still love him. I mean he’s my father. Is that not the most fucked up thing?
Words by the great poet Emily Dickinson:
“Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.”- A poem from “The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson”