Lately, I have been finding myself with a lot of time on my hands. Since I don't start my new full time job for a few weeks, I have tried to devote this spare time to writing. I have become a member of a fabulous website called She Writes. My page can be found at http://www.shewrites.com/profile/ErinSmith864 for all readers interested. I have been trying to write different things there than I write here, but it all sort of ends up in one big overlap, self-promotion on both sites. I have been trying to gear myself up to right that novel I'm always telling people I will write. I'm hoping with my membership to this new site, I can make some actual steps toward doing so. I'm all talk right now, and I'm well aware of that fact.
Anyways, so I guess my post for today alludes to my past, as my posts so often do. After having dreams for the past few nights about someone I'd rather not be dreaming about or even mentioning, it inspired me to write the first poem that I have written in a long time. I will include it below after this post, but it got me thinking. My greatest inspiration is often pain. Why is that? I'm beginning to wonder if pain is the strongest emotion that we feel as human beings, not love or lust or happiness, but pain. It's always fresh, no matter how long ago the incident may have occurred that initially sparked it. You can live a happy life, but happiness often becomes a constant, and while there may be a rush of unexpected joy now and then, I find that it's the pain that lingers. It rears its ugly head and jabs us with a one-two punch to the heart every now and then. While my past is in the past, I hear mention of it through mutual friends, I have dreams, I see the model of my ex's car driving around town. I am willing to admit that similar things happen with joyful memories, yet it's always the ones that we look back at with disdain that seem to alter our mood.
Now I should go into a lecture about how not to let it affect you and how to move past the past, but I won't. Every once in a while, we need to reflect on the bad memories, live out the bad mood, if only for a little while, then let it pass. I'm not in a bad mood currently, just contemplative. The thoughts will pass and I will enjoy my day off of bad TV and cleaning the apartment. But for now, I'm giving myself the time to reflect.
I watch you move with listless eyes,
Your body betraying your sad disguise.
You follow the cracks in the sidewalk,
Shuffling silt as you talk
To me of your great plans,
Your wondrous life, your adoring fans.
But I can see right through to your core,
Your rotting heart, your lack of allure.
You’re no longer good, though you boast you are.
Prepared to wander near and far
To find another source of lust and adoration
Of a life no longer worth contemplation.