Me.
I'm on my mind and I know that probably sounds horrible but I can't stop thinking about me.
Okay yeah that definitely sounds horrible. But I can't stop think of all the different pieces of myself that people see.
There was this dumb thing I did when I was little where I would pull out a strand of hair every place I went thinking that in 50 years scientist would examine the disaster zone and say "she was here" Thinking that with a strand of hair I would be able to prove to my grandchildren that I was there when the floods came and I was still there when they left or when my neighbor's house caught on fire and he couldn't save his goldfish, or that I was at an aquarium on 9/11 Maybe that is the reason I am the way I am now. A girl with thin hair and a scattered personality
Instead of strands of hair I now leave parts of myself with others. I have left my brain with this blog, my smile with my friends, my tears with God, and my heart I have kept for myself. Sometimes I wonder if funerals are like everyone putting the final pieces of that person's puzzle together. I wonder if you are only truly understood after you have gone, when everyone else hears about how you cried while watching Star Wars that one time, or when they learn about your weird obsession with listening to different people's voices and the fact that you ate Cheetos everyday for a year when you were seven.
It's weird to think about what your funeral would be like, but I know everyone does it so I guess it's not actually that weird. I think I would want a lot of crying at my funeral. Mostly because I have cried at so many and it's someone else's turn to cry for once. But I picture everyone bringing the little pieces of me that they kept and showing them to each other. And eventually, after everyone's done putting all my pieces together. They'll all be like "ohhhhhh I get it" as if I was some sort of math equation or something. Maybe we are only whole after we die. And maybe that's the way its supposed to be. Maybe the purpose of life isn't to be old and wise and have everything figured out.
Maybe the purpose of life is to figure somebody else out before it's too late.
~sasha fierce~
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mountain mama
for a time in my life where I should have been listening to the happy john denver songs with my friends but ended up listening to the sad j...
"A girl with thin hair and a scattered personality" #stolen
ReplyDeleteI also loved the last couple lines. mmmm :)
I reeeeally, REALLY love your writing. It's deliciously good. And THIS:
ReplyDeleteThere was this dumb thing I did when I was little where I would pull out a strand of hair every place I went thinking that in 50 years scientist would examine the disaster zone and say "she was here".
This was a good idea.