pushing past pains.
and that’s where i learned i could be better. do better. that a set of twenty-six letters rearranged in a specific order can evoke empathy within people was something that i aimed for, made it my goal in life. to make somebody feel something. to feel nothing? numb? what a waste of the human experience.
i get past pain by feeling it. knee deep. and to get to meaning takes a couple of poems, a re-hashed short story, sometimes half of a journal, scribbles, scrawls, and sleepless nights. but it’s all worth it. it’s not masochistic, it’s just a part of being human. for it to be masochistic would to tie it down to self-destruction — drug abuse, alcoholism, etc. — but even then, hope exists in the lowest points of life. i know this because when i hit the end of my 800 word limit for the day, and all of it is a wreck except for a single sentence or even two words put side by side,
i know another day follows.
