ferinough | i would swallow my doubt, turn it inside out (Reply)

Sometimes, like one in the morning when my body deserves to be resting (after a very long week at the end of a very emotional year), I wonder where I would be without stuff. Without movies, television, books, the internet - what would I be like? How would I reach out to other people? What, if anything, would I care about that doesn't fall into the category of family and friends?

But then I remember that people years and years and years ago had books too. Had music. Had dancing.

I think, if left on my own without much of anything, I would just imagine that I did have something... possibly sing about it, with sweeping arm gestures and intermittent laughter.

Which seems reason enough to keep enjoying what I enjoy. I shouldn't apologize to myself for falling in love... a lot, and then thinking about it. All the time. Letting my brain be overactive 24 hours a day (why do all my dreams lately take place in grocery stores?) because I want to think of everything I've learned, haven't learned, want to learn - to the extent of reading "Sorrow of Love" as "Flavor of Life" in a book of poems and laughing until I cry.

Because even when I'm depressed and pondering, I have plenty of options to turn to for a smile - friends and family included this time.

So, basically: