"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Saturday, March 9, 2013


"I will always remember you
watching me walking away."
Meant by Elizaveta

"Your name is the splinter
inside me."
Joshua Radin

That last lyric
breaks me every
single time I hear it.
I know how that is.
I know what that is.
I live it, because there are splinters
and names inside me all day every day.
I'm sure some of these names know who they
are and there are others who know and don't care
and others still who never knew how much they became intrinsic
parts of me. I hold onto these names and I tell people that it is because
they make good stories, and I'm sure they do, just as I'm sure that I will tell
the stories one day, but the truth is, is that I've let these splinters stay, because the
pain of splinters stuck in my flesh is worth the remembrance of times past.

These splinters have sliced my hands when I slapped them
and became a part of me, sucked into my bloodstream
because when I was angry at them, they became intrinsic parts of me
how I remember and relate.
But now, where they came from is irrelevant to a certain degree because
there are now bits of wood and glass and steel, all with various names
and dates and deeds floating about it in my body
These are the prettiest and ugliest bits of me.
Splinters of people who touched me and set me on fire
and people who spoke words that remind me that family is choice
and that I will be loved despite the overwhelming prevalence of ugliness
that is inside of me.

There are splinters of people who
I text Thrift Shop lyrics to every other day
and see almost every Sunday
and people I talk to once every two months
and we are warriors and friends and sometimes
domestic as fuck and at other times we are gods of bagpipes and feminism
and splinters of a person I knew once all too well
but his god is not my own and I am broken in his eyes because
I do not believe that I need to be saved.
And splinters of people that are in the downward swing of our friendship
but because I know everything is a circle, they will swing upwards
and splinters of people who have been close to my heart
since I met them.
These splinters can be painful
but they bring so much beauty, that it is worth the pain.

On a sillier note, every time
Welcome to the Black Parade
comes on
I turn it off
unless it is just me listening to it.
There is the true confessions of my life.
And dancing around like a muppet is to this song
is one of them.

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