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Show & Tell
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@vodkalisque
I love you, for just you. Everything you do for yourself for betterment, and for us; that’s just a bonus. I could look at you all day, be with you all day, and be fine with nothing happening on the agenda.
Today was one of those days where you didn’t need to carry my weight, but you do it because you want to, not because you need to.
“People ask, “Why are you going to the same place everyday?” But that’s when you see the subtle differences. And that’s when you get to know the wild.”
My Octopus Teacher (2020) | Pippa Ehrlich, James Reed
3.44am. Sleeping next to you right this moment. No, we’re not cuddling because your snoring deafen my ears. My mind feels like a hurricane in the middle of an earthquake happening concurrently with all the noise in my life; and in this cacophony, your snoring right on tempo is the one thing I’d love to hear.
To know I’ll always have nights like these, and to know I still get to go to bed right by your side is the biggest comfort I’ll ever have. I hate your snoring but it’s something I’ll want to fall asleep to every night.
“Oh God, he was my life. You couldn’t miss him. He was big. 6’3” and 200 lbs, and he was so alive. Wayne always stopped for life. That’s one thing he taught me, if you want fullness in life, you have to stop for it. He’d pull over on the side of the road to explore a creek. Or to look at a piece of road kill. Or he might visit a friend to help fix a roof, and end up staying the entire week. By the time Wayne left, the whole house would be renovated. He could fix anything. He once found a Model T in the woods and had it working in days. He was a complete genius like that. But one unfortunate thing about Wayne, he wasn’t a doctor oriented person. So by the time we discovered the cancer, it had already spread to his lungs. We were arrogant at first. We thought we could beat anything. But it was only a matter of time. A few weeks before his death, we were hanging out, smoking hash, and talking about what to do with his ashes. Suddenly Wayne picked up the vial of hash, looked at it closely, and told us he had an idea. It took a lot to get that man down. Wayne wanted to live until his 54th birthday, and that’s exactly when he died. You can’t grieve for a man like that, so we threw him a ‘fun’eral. We had bluegrass music and two bushels of Chesapeake Bay crabs. And as a parting gift, every attendee received a vial of Wayne’s ashes. There were hundreds of them. We only requested that each recipient share where their vial ended up. Mine got mixed into some ink and tattooed on my finger. The other vials have gone all around the world: seven continents, so many bodies of water, the Wailing Wall, the Great Barrier Reef. Wayne’s in two different volcanoes. A sarcophagus in the Louvre. He’s even in the evidence room of a Georgia prison, because one of our friends got arrested with Wayne in his pocket. Wayne would have loved that. That’s such a Wayne place to end up. You could never contain him. Not when he was alive. Not when he was dead.” #quarantinestories
I remember
That morning when I slept in and all I heard were the alarms ringing and the 10am sunday sun creeping in through the Ikea block out curtains I insisted we needed to get. I reached out to your side of the bed hoping to feel your skin but it was only the tencel bedsheets we painstakingly decided on getting together over Whatsapp that touched my fingers.
I peeked through my heavy lids to see you leaning over the side of my bed table, struggling to switch off the phone alarms so it wouldn’t wake me through entirely, whilst holding the Joseph Joseph uni tool in your other hand.
‘Well, since the alarms are snoozed, or switched off.....’ I thought to myself, I gave myself a personal 5 mins more of shut eye while i heard frying and the clanking of metals out in our makeshift kitchen right next to the bedroom door.
The next thing I knew, you kissed me awake and told me good morning, and I smelled eggs - right there on the bed - served to me in a bed tray. ‘Good morning babers’ you went, smiling and side eyeing the breakfast you made for me hoping I would break out in hugs and kisses for your gesture.
That moment was perfect and real and us. Moments like this, I’ll like to remember forever.
I noticed when I was a kid that adults seem to forget that everything is real, no matter how young you are. A seven year old doesn’t feel like a helpless infant, they feel the oldest and most mature they’ve ever felt. And they will when they turn eight, too. And nine. Twenty. Thirty. Fifty.
You never feel as young as you are, because you’re always the oldest you’ve been. You can only look back and equate childhood with ignorance and silliness, because there were things you didn’t know then. But there are things you don’t know now, too, that someone older is looking down at you for.
I promised myself I would never forget that, growing up. I put it in a time capsule when I was nine because I wanted to be certain. And sometimes it slips away, and I catch myself scoffing at people younger than me, but you have to fight that. You have to hold on. You have to keep a little bit of your younger mind inside you, so you don’t forget.
I think that’s important.
Remember that you’ll always change, but know that the person you’ll become isn’t going to be any more real than the person you are, or the person you were. They’re still going to feel like You.
the cure to self-sabotage is to anchor yourself to the universal truth that you are worth it. you are worth the effort. you are worth the difficulty, you are worth the time, you are worth the consideration. there is never a point in your life, in time itself, that you are not worth it. return to this truth when you feel yourself slipping. do not let it go.
»family« by anatol knotek
homepage | tumblr | instagram | twitter
»the solution« by anatol knotek
homepage | tumblr | instagram | twitter
I’m selling stickers of this excerpt! You can buy it here: https://www.redbubble.com/people/alexaevangelist/works/38699890-the-book-ill-never-finish-writing-sticker-1?asc=u&p=sticker&rel=carousel
They tell you
How much they miss you, how much they care, how much they really like you, how much they love you, how much they want you to be a part of their life, how much they see a future with you, how much of missing how things used to be in the beginning, how much they are sorry they got complacent, how much they hate to fight, how much they think they’re not good enough for you, how much they feel ‘you are better without me’, how much they love you too much they have to let you go.
How much?
Some of the best moments in life are the ones you can’t tell anyone about..
“I am getting so strong again that I hardly know myself. It is as if I had passed through some long nightmare, and had just awakened to see the beautiful sunshine and feel the fresh air of the morning around me.”
— Bram Stoker, from The Collected Prose Works; “Dracula,” wr. c. 1897
“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.”
— Josephine Hart, Damage
