Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Unreachable
























photos.     

Sometimes I sit and wonder
am I growing into
or growing out of myself.
It seems
the more I try to reconnect
with who I was
the further away she is.

2 comments:

Some Girl said...

With the title "I'm not brave" I was referring to the fighting that bloom out of terror instead of bravery. So even though I know that it took lots of bravery to get where I am right now and to expose this new self to others, I'm still completely terrified when certain people from my past come in with their instruction, ordering me to change this or change that, pounding their thoughts into my head. I'm terrified that history will repeat itself, that I'll listen to them and throw away everything that I worked so hard to get. That terror causes the battles that I'm always fighting, not bravery. I don't feel like I'm at that place yet, where I feel secure enough to stop fighting and accept blows directly, listen to all of their words and still come out unscathed, still not feel the need to completely change myself so their hits will stop. I think that's the level of bravery I'm trying to accomplish.

I do agree with what you said though. You're right. I don't want to burden those who ask me why I'm quiet so I come up with an excuse and keep the real story to myself. That doesn't mean I'm not brave just because I don't share my problems.

And finally, in response to this post, I think that it could be a combination of both. Like you're growing out of who you were and growing into who you will be. It's hard trying to connect with who we used to be I think. Everyday widens the gap and after a while it's hard to remember who they were because we've traveled so far and when we look back, our old selves are tiny specks that are hard to see. This post reminds me of an essay by one of my favorite writers. It's called On Keeping a Notebook and it's by Joan Didion. Have you read it?

P.S. Sorry for writing a novel.

Lilah said...

I haven't read it, but you've sparked an interest in me so I'm sure I will now.
I love your writing, it's so eloquent. When I write I have to reword my thoughts, but your words are so graceful- you can explain my feelings better than I can. But, then I suppose society in general shares the same base emotions, so maybe you're just reliving your own experiences.

So, you aren't as courageous as you want to be. Who is? I guess what I was trying to say is everybody has scars, but only a few admit to them . And even if that's not bravery, it's something to be valued.
I'm glad you went into more detail though, it's so hard to understand blogs sometimes, they are so..vague and private and secretive. I suppose people who write are like that more often than not, the journal keepers of the world. Many only share their thoughts with strangers.
Well, that steered off topic.
By the way, novels are far more substantial than comments anyway.