I am not a poet….


I am not a poet….

I wish i was poetic and able to string a line of beautifully well put together words to convey some deep meaning of love, loss or yearning…but this is about as far as i got….so yeah.

 

Reading really puts me in a melancholy mood. My mom told me I was always a little dramatic as a young child….told me I would cry during slow songs…it was never a bawling loud cry but I would shed a tear or two during a soft , slow melody. The funny thing was for the most part these songs had no words and somehow I they affected me enough to bring me to tears. Years later I still do that. I think after the passing of my little brother my emotions are always right underneath the surface. I feel everything even when I don’t want to. Random commercials move me, poems bring me to tears, my yoga practice ends in sniffles, sometimes I have  random urges to tell someone/anyone/the air “I love you”.

…it crossed my mind that to know others on a superficial level only is a desperate hell and life is worth living only if the veneer is stripped away, the polish, the wax and we the true grain of the other no matter how far less than perfect, even ugly, even savage at the heart.

-Four Souls; Louise Erdrich

ok…off to bed I go…..or pop in a Scrubs dvd while I sip some Cabernet….

 

 

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