Saturday, November 06, 2010


Tonight was really amazing. Went to the Cafe Du Bois with my parents and enjoyed a really remarkable dinner and wine. My step mom told me how she and my dad were finally able to visit their granddaughter again after a long feud with her mother and father over some very important issues. I was so happy for them. My dad's guitar instructor was the musical guest for the evening, and he played the whole time we were there without a single break, and he was brilliant. Blues, classics, everything. He was wonderful, and I can see why my dad likes taking lessons from him. After that I went and played guitar over at Shepard's house. Before that I played guitar for hours and talked food at Chefs 2b.

I think I am wrestling with some serious depression, though, and I am doing my best to deal with it. It hits pretty hard and pretty unexpectedly when people are kind and generous, and it is just weird to cry at dinner in a public restaurant. Clenching my jaw only does so much, and no matter how hard I try I can't keep a few tears from leaking out. I try and suck it up, because, really.. this is life. Life is suffering. It's not like I'm a wreck and struggling to deal with day to day life. There's no one who can give me advice I don't know. Some people want to console you by telling you how hard life is, but if life was so hard it wouldn't be a tragedy. Life is BEAUTIFUL, and amazing, and wondrous. Philip K. Dick described a character who dealt with the pain of a life shifting in nature by believing that the normal life was lacking in surprise, saying that it had to end because it was boring, and that his dark and destroyed life had achieved greatness because it was full of wonder and surprise. Later, in his despair, he expresses hatred for the space he occupies, stating that his life and his home should belong to someone who has what he denied wanting. It's sort of a beautifully tragic dance with suffering, for the person who suffers it is not a matter of circumstance. I just wish I could control myself at dinner. I don't want to sit there with people I love, listening to amazing music and damn near dancing in our seats because it makes you just want to get up and move, and then the next minute be slouched over trying to hide the lines of tears down my cheeks.

Her name was Jewel Scott. She was 2 months and 1 day old. She liked strawberries, and blueberries, and she didn't like beef and she loved it when I sang to her and talked to her. She would have been born April 2011. And everyone tells me that she is in a better place, and all I can think is... a million different things. How can I let this pain make me a better person? How can I not let this be just waste. Art, poetry, storytelling. I don't know. I just wish I could control my eyes at dinner, that I could keep from breaking down in front of the whole world. No one needs to see that, it doesn't help anything to have it out there, where no one can help.

A lifetime is more than sufficiently long for people to get what there is of it wrong.
- Piet Hein

Pay no attention to what the critics say... Remember, a statue has never been set up in honor of a critic!
- Jean Sibelius

My Halloween:

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1 comment:

  1. *listens in silence* I have been praying for you and her since the day you let me know.

    I am now trying to hold my tears too.


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