Nothing more to BE said
There is nothing to fix
And that is enough.
If there is one thing about me I wish I could harness and make work “for good” it is my incessant and persistent desire to rewrite the Past. I feel like the speaker at the podium with at least a hundred more dog-eared page markers. The overtly frustrated Yes, But person who canNOT embrace much less accept reality’s realness.
Sometimes there is simply NOTHING. Nothing more to say. Nothing more required. Zero. Zip. Nada. Zilch.
And even though I DON’T think that this part of me will probably EVER go away completely, I am grateful.
MayBE grateful to see it and know it and call it mine, ME, and a part of Who I Am.
It is a thing that can BE strengthened and it absolutely DOES have a place, even if NOT the someplace it defaults to.
As a writer, I’ve rarely felt anything at all like a desire to write fiction. This has often puzzled me. Why, I wonder, if I have such a “penchant” for rewriting history DO I NOT channel it into story-telling?!
I don’t have an answer other than it just isn’t how it unpacks itself in me. It’s NOT how I roll…
I love you, Currie