Category: Words

Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
–the Beatles/In My Life

On July 12th, 2013 I posted this:
Is it a trick?

What I absolutely did not know is that it would be the first day of a streak. It wasn’t much. It was only a few words. I don’t really remember when or if I decided that it was going to become a daily thing. Something that I had to do no matter what. It did, though.

Perseverance is not one of my native attributes, especially if something is difficult for me. This has been. Not the cranking out of words. That’s easy. I can spew out 500 words in no time at all. But 500 words of…ewwww…sharing? Private thoughts? Feelings? It is not something I am comfortable with. At all.

Sometimes, I admit, there is a little bit of dissonance between what I say my character is like and the way it must seem from the things I write about. How can I say that I am introverted and reserved and then write about being yelled at for masturbating in nursery school? How can someone who talks about pubic hair so much call herself uncomfortable talking about her personal life?

You should have paid closer attention, I am sure I have explained it before.

There are two ways I account for it:

1. It makes me uncomfortable, and this year I have been trying to do things that are outside of my comfort zone. With mixed results, but in general the more squeamish an idea makes me the more likely it is to hit the blog. The more afraid I am of something, the more likely I am to at least consider doing it. Lots of losses, but the kind that could lead to better things ahead. Stress. Not sleeping. Maybe there is something to be said about being snug in a comfort zone. It’s comfortable at least. This has not been a comfortable year.

2. It is far easier for me to talk about anything in writing than it is verbally. I had pen pals as a child, and online friends as an adult. I am used to writing my thoughts. The surprising thing is why I didn’t start doing more of it sooner. See #1, I guess.

It’s an anniversary, and I suppose I should come up with some sort of wisdom to share. Something that sums up what I have gotten out of this experience. Something that tells of my plans for the future.

I haven’t figured out the plans for the future. I hope I keep writing, but maybe not daily. I have missed some of my other loves, and hope to discover some new ones. Drawing, maybe. Something artistic, perhaps. Or maybe I will start running again.

It’s a little hard to say what I have gotten out of this.

Definitely one thing: being who I am, letting other people see who I am, has been overwhelming at times, but such a positive change in my life. I have always felt weird in a bad way. Unlikeable. Worse, unloveable. People have responded with so much acceptance. It is starting to change how I feel about myself. Small steps. Painful steps at times, but it is forward motion.

I’ve learned to be grateful, always, for all of the beauty in my life. I’ve learned to forgive, if not to forget. Forgiving someone for things that happened 3 decades ago was a major step. I don’t think that wouldn’t have happened without all of the writing.

It always hits me, after a bad time in my life, that something has happened to help me through it.

Maybe a supportive message from a friend, or a small gift. Maybe it is the reappearance of someone you never expected to hear from again. There has been a lot of that during the last year or two. It helps offset some of the losses. The losses have been difficult. Some of them look like they will be permanent.

Writing has helped me figure out how I feel about things and people. Some of what I write shows up here, a lot of it doesn’t.

There is lot of sadness in my life right now–I’d have to be heartless not to feel sad–but even so, there is still a lot of happiness. I still consider myself one of the luckiest people I know.

Maybe recognizing that everything is what it is, and everyone is who they are and just accepting that will sink in, too.

That is what I hope.

E se davvero tu vuoi vivere una vita luminosa e più fragrante,
cancella col coraggio quella supplica dagli occhi.
Troppo spesso la saggezza è solamente la prudenza più stagnante,
e quasi sempre dietro la collina è il sole.
–Mogol-Battisti/La Collina Dei Ciliegi

For the vast majority of you, this will be even harder to understand than it usually is. Apologies. Think of it as an exercise in seeing things the way the rest of the world does with our all-American linguistic domination. If the Roman Empire had lasted another millennium….maybe you’d read me like this every day.

È chiaro che non voglio dire tutti quelli che non capiscono. Non capisce nessuno, e non è perché scrivo in Inglese, Italiano o Cinese. È perché sono un essere umano, e gli esseri umani non capiscono mai niente d’importante.

In questi lunghi giorni, con una vita che…beh..non funziona più benissimo..penso molto a quello che voglio. La vita che vorrei vivere. Una vita semplice. Una vita piena. Ma quello che voglio?

Non so proprio.

Riesco a definire quelli che NON voglio, ma non so se è una cosa che voglio fare, determinare la mia vita per punti negativi. Preferirei trovare i positivi.

E mi spiego male.

Non so più l’Italiano. Peccato, no, quando lo scrivevo così bene? (E si, non saper scrivere è una scusa..mi spiego male in tutte le lingue)

E poi non è mica complicata quello che voglio. L’ha già detto Battisti lassù: una vita luminosa.

Che faccio per viverla?

Cancello col coraggio quella supplica dagli occhi…
Ok ok ok

Cerco di fare le cose che mi fanno paura. Essere chi sono, invece di essere quella che piace agli altri. Quella finta Michelle? Se non piaceva a nessuno, non m’importava. Non ero io. Se non piace a nessuno quella vera? Ahhh…ma ecco il trucco: quella vera? Quella con le idee strane? Quella taciturna? Piace molto di più alla gente. Che meraviglia.

Poi cerco di parlare un po’ di più. Non riesco sempre. Se non riesco a dire le mie parole, le scrivo qui. Esco più spesso in vece di stare sempre sola. Mi piace stare sola, ma stare sempre sola perché ho paura di…di che, poi? Ecco. Esco. Vedo gli amici. Non mi nascondo.

La saggezza? Non è fatta per me.

Scrivere in Italiano ė difficile. Come ci riesci ogni giorno, voi Italiani?

And now I feel like I need to go back to Italy for a little sumpin’…
I wish I could take Chelle. It’s her birthday. Happy birthday!