While I sit on my bed listening to Peter Bradley Adams and sketching little entities (black ink) that doesn’t make any sense too me, I am thinking about life and what I have lost throughout my 24 (and a half) years of living on this planet (in this weird society). You may think it wasn’t much of a time … I mean come on 24 ridiculous years and I am complaining while my 74 year old grandmother is lying in a hospital bed because she had a surgery yesterday… but still it doesn’t seem much of complaining but of reminiscing of what isn’t there anymore.
It is sad though… isn’t it? Forcing your memory to work its way back to when you where a little boy with shiny dreams growing up to become a young adolescent when you finally crossing the finishing line to being called an adult. Poor memory. Poor brain. It somehow seems to be some kind of self tormenting process because in the end you realize that everything you have lost is still dearly missed somewhere inside of your heart and mind and body.
Today, when I went to visit my grandmother I thought about life and the ridiculous velocity we treat it with. If we lose something it mostly is our own fault because either we did not work hard enough trying to keep what we dearly loved or we were just being totally careless not realizing how worthy some things, people and feelings can be to us. And the only way we realize it is by losing it. Here comes the twist that bugs me… I always say I do not believe and lately I found it very hard to say ‘I love you’ to anybody… I can’t even manage to say those words to my mother or my sister or my grandmother (in her usual good, healthy condition when I do not have to be afraid that she might not be waking up the next day). When I said goodbye to her (my grandmother) I really wanted to say it… those words I knew she wanted to hear… she wished for hearing… but I wasn’t able to get myself saying it. That is the one thing I have lost a while ago and it doesn’t even work when it is supposed to… I just looked at her and all I could say was ‘I will be watching over you. Both of my mobile phones are being powered so do not hesitate to call whenever you just feel the need of talking. I’ll be there. And don’t worry about waking me up (grandmother’s always do worry about that, don’t they?) because I will be up all night working and writing anyways (that was obviously a little white lie but in situations like these you can’t help it).’ I couldn’t say it.
And now I wonder one thing… will I ever get it back? Will I be able to say those three words ever again? I am afraid I won’t. And I am afraid people are really right by saying I am cold blooded. I don’t know if I am. I simply don’t know. All I know is I ain’t the man I once used to be… before every emotional crack inside me was exploding to become an emotional burden on my heart and my mind. Still I am sitting here… doing philosophy on life and fears and things one lost and can’t get back again (maybe). What have I done wrong in life and above all where did I go wrong?
P.S. Someone celebrates his birthday today… I will not congratulate him. Is that right? I mean he did not congratulate me and he broke my heart but in the end… aren’t we adults. Can’t we just say ‘happy birthday’ without sending a subliminal imaginary message one never meant to say?! What is wrong with us?