not the same as i was

it's hard to find words to say this, to make it clear because i've so many of the same faults, so many of the same issues, so many of the same tendencies. but i'm a completely different person. the woman you left is dead. she has never found her way out of grief, the person i am today is someone else.

and it makes me wonder what makes us who we are? some crazy convergence of coincidence or some determining factor, genetics, shall we say. some bullshit accident, or fate?

i don't know. i don't believe in anything these days. i find the word faith hollow. and i had someone recently say,

i thought it was faith but i was just being an idiot.

and how many times i think that's what i've done. walked blindly across the train tracks when the train is bearing down and believed it would all be well.

but there was always someone to swoop in and help me, to show me how brave i was to step out, when i knew the train would slam me upside the head and leave me scattered and in bits.

i'd like to think i've pulled it all back together. i've found the parts of me strewn endlessly strewn all over new york. but i haven't. i have a feeling some of me is in california, arizona, and texas too. some bits i'll never get back. that jersey sees more of me than anywhere, and, well, i'm tired of not being whole.

i don't even know what that word means anymore.

wholeness.

wholesome.

some holes, for sure. many holes is more like it.

i've got to get to barnes and noble tonight. i'm missing the second book in the twilight saga. always late to the party i am. but the fanfare and crowds have never interested me. so i'm just grateful when i finally arrive.

and well, as usual, i'm late.

and in the mail today, plr #37, finally published. i'm in it. and wouldn't you know, i find the most mixed up poet in the book (aside from me, of course) to strike up a friendship with.

classic.