friends treat sad events in a variety of ways. there's the food contingent, who make sure you remember to eat when things get difficult. there are the book people, who run in with written words that changed their lives. there's the get-off-your-ass squad, showing no mercy, taking the afflicted party hiking or camping or to the streets, providing anything but a chance to mope. then the party crew, bringing cacaphonous distractions like parties,alcohol. there are the ones who don't believe in sadness, just moving on. then the ones who listen, who'll just happen to be in the neighborhood (even when i know they weren't, bless 'em) so that we can talk or drink tea. or the "when one candle goes out, light another" contingent, who always say curious things regarding fish and the sea, 'tho i know nothing about marine life. my rambling point is that lately people have been there when i need them, and i am grateful. i definitely don't understand much in the world, but i can identify w/ the culture of compassionate rad-ness that i luckily fell into. i hope that i return these favors so beautifully.
and while sometimes i want to bash my head on the pavement because of the way my heart works, i don't regret having the capacity to care about people with unabashed feeling. i think it's made me stronger and able to see a lot of things that other folks can't handle. i reckon that i learn from it as well, and that someday it will work out ok, when i finally learn to hide it away as well as share it.
today feels bloody horrible and i wonder what the hell i am doing. so i continue to mutter a mantra under my breath, "you can't break a metal heart".