every person I talked to yesterday was suffering from an aching sort of depression. a pandemic of nostalgic depression. everyone was in bed. I was in bed. (sometimes the world just feels like too much to bear).
I felt like someone punched a hole in me and took something out. was thoughtless and carelessly broke it, and just shrugged, then walked off with a who cares kind of attitude.

the ruminations:
why can’t things be easier. why can’t they be like they used to be. why can’t I go back to a time in my life where things made sense, when I thought I knew what was going on. where I felt happy and secure and better. instead of this. instead of feeling like this.

because things change. because it’s the only inevitable thing. everything changes.
and aching for the past only turns us into hungry ghosts.
the ache steals from us. steals present moments, compares them with memories that are wrapped in feelings. it compares and judges against our ghosts of the past.
and no one can compete with ghosts. they are pristine. our minds wipe away all the bad things, smooth them over, make them not so bad...
we highlight the good things. what we knew. the beauty of the firsts, unmarred by all the awful things that would eventually break them down, and erode them.
clinging to an eroding coastline is tiring and painful.
and it’s only sand. the harder we hold, the faster it crumbles.

it’s hard to remember
today I want to take all that energy and use it for use it for better people. today is not for the ghosts.

TAGSBed Day