My dear friend Zak Davis is happy for me. He is glad to know that I've found joy in my short, transient life. He thinks I found joy because I told him I did. I love Zak. He is in Columbia or God knows where right now. Finding the meaning I have no doubt.
I, on the other hand, grapple daily. Not sure what to expect, to know. What to hope for, what to accept, what to reject. I am slowly moving through the haunted house by the tiny light of my cell phone. With a bunch of kids behind me. Ready to bitch slap a monster with a chainsaw around every corner.
I keep changing the meaning of my life to something I already have. You know, to give me that "I have arrived" feeling. So I can relax. But then I find that I don't have the thing I thought I had. Is it just me? Oprah told me a long time ago I'd get the love that I put out. I found out that abusers are the exception to that one. But I am thinking it's just not true at all. It's ok. I'm not sure what to do with this wicked vacuum that lives in my chest. I just have to adjust. (sighing, squaring my shoulders...)
Making adjustments. It's what's I do. Which is what I am thinking life is. The Transient Life. Short, nothing permanent, ever moving and changing. I just need to understand that I will understand nothing. Well, I do understand a few things. My kids are worth it, food is good, I will get zits all through life, and I love naps.
I hope am doing ok. In this life. It's just a confusion to me. I'll let you know when I figure it out.
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