I may be a bit inebriated from trying to help out a friend’s loneliness tonight and I shouldn’t admit that the night before last my favorite M.D. made me weep. But fuck it, I cried like a two dollar whore broke a three dollar nail. It was a breakthrough, is breakthrough one word or two, hmmm… I guess it doesn’t matter. What does matter is, I love writing and the problem I’ve had with it, up until now is that I couldn’t be honest with myself or even others. I was more blunt with people, than truthful. And while being blunt is a part of being honest, that’s not how you connect with people. Writing is being unequivocally truthful. Writing is more than just a feeling, it’s feeling. It’s groping at the heart. It’s tugging at a natural instinctual state of mind. It’s being blunt and in tune with the world.
I used to think that I was broken. I closed myself off with the opinion that I couldn’t feel anything or that I wouldn’t, if I blocked that contact. I made myself emotionally numb. But part of feeling advantageous is being open to the cold hard truth that I need to suffer the agony of heartbreak. Pain is a necessity if I want to know what happiness is. Life’s a balance.
I’m not becoming hippie or anything but spending the past few months, more so last month, in tune with people; making connections, I’ve been able to figure out that hurting or crying reminds you what true joviality is. A few nights ago I felt that. Tonight I felt good. I may feel happiness one day. But It’s a process and last month was a step down a different path… and I “like” it.
Thirty days of awesome was phenomenal idea and thirty days in three minutes is a great way to dote on those days.