I want to see how much I can write from my phone. I could go to the restroom and try my luck at recording my voice into words, but unless I have a script to read from, my words just don't get written the same. But I think this is probably equally frustrating. I have the new Galaxy s4, so I'm using swipe to type everything. Basically I am typing without having to lift my finger from the screen, and hopefully auto-correct doesn't screw me over on the words I am typing. So forgive me for not having the best grammar.
I'm sitting at Starbucks with my son, and I'm feeling grateful. Everyone is going through a revelation, an apocalypse if you will, an end to the way they used to be, because the world demands a change from them. I'm not worried for them, I am excited to see the results cuz I know they will pull through. And come out better for it. I might be too. Though I still feel very much the same, I know a great part of me has died. I don't think she is worth resurrecting. I'm very much alive, but I'm covered in scars and I'm afraid there is no hiding them. This must be what war veterans go through, the ones that haven't gone "hard" the ones that were never meant to serve, but we're forced to, and came back alive all traumatized. .. I still want to ask my uncles what it was like. But they spent the the last three decades trying to forget, so who am I to ask them to re-live it. I think that's why I never ask people about their hardships, I figure if they want to talk about it, they will.
I'm looking forward to Easter. I miss my family, they are all assholes, but they are apart of who I am. I still look forward to Mexico. I'll make it happen. Until I do I'm not doing anything else! Fuck everything else! My son will come with me. And my dad is going to be doing a bunch of acceptance, and explaining. .. I don't know how to begin to explain what I want from Mexico.
All I know is that it's been calling to me the way only a place called home could.
I'm sitting at Starbucks with my son, and I'm feeling grateful. Everyone is going through a revelation, an apocalypse if you will, an end to the way they used to be, because the world demands a change from them. I'm not worried for them, I am excited to see the results cuz I know they will pull through. And come out better for it. I might be too. Though I still feel very much the same, I know a great part of me has died. I don't think she is worth resurrecting. I'm very much alive, but I'm covered in scars and I'm afraid there is no hiding them. This must be what war veterans go through, the ones that haven't gone "hard" the ones that were never meant to serve, but we're forced to, and came back alive all traumatized. .. I still want to ask my uncles what it was like. But they spent the the last three decades trying to forget, so who am I to ask them to re-live it. I think that's why I never ask people about their hardships, I figure if they want to talk about it, they will.
I'm looking forward to Easter. I miss my family, they are all assholes, but they are apart of who I am. I still look forward to Mexico. I'll make it happen. Until I do I'm not doing anything else! Fuck everything else! My son will come with me. And my dad is going to be doing a bunch of acceptance, and explaining. .. I don't know how to begin to explain what I want from Mexico.
All I know is that it's been calling to me the way only a place called home could.
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