Life is hardly ever ideal, but it can always be good.
— one of my happy thoughts from yesterday
Yesterday was not an ideal day, and I didn’t even post for JusJoJan (although now I’m using the word). However, there were several aspects to be happy about, and by the end of the day, I felt very loved. Fun fact: I only wrote 2, very cruddy poems yesterday, but today I have 5 1/2 already.
The prompt for JusJoJan is “complaint.” Also for MVB: Melody. Depression really is an illness, because I don’t have any real complaints about my life (other than the fact that I can’t yet drive, and it’s going to take me forever to learn well). However, I wrote this poem, thinking about how depression sucks the life out of life. If that makes sense.
All the beauty depression dims,
Makes me sleep, when I should
Keep my eyes open:
Lack of an attention span
Truncates melodies, where
Once I would listen fully,
Sensing more than discordant
Harmonies, and appreciating
All the different instruments
In life's amazing orchestral piece.
We walk by faith and not by sight,
Through a life nonsensical now,
Currently no idea how
It will turn out; is there a light?
There are rewards after the fight,
The journey long but not in vain:
There's consolation in the pain
And beauty in all the pieces.
Despite how dark the night sky is
We'll be restored to joy again.
A décima for the end of the year and going into the new one, inspired by this picture that I began to color today (but have not finished). Like my life, I don’t know how this picture will turn out, but if I just keep coloring (living), it will finish beautifully.
Today, just for fun, I am answering questions for the Wednesday Hodgepodge (the day after, on Thursday).
Did you set any goals for the new year this time last year? Did you meet them or miss the mark? Tell us more if you’re comfortable sharing.
I honestly do not remember, so I’ll have to look back in my journal. However, if I did make any goals, I probably failed at them. XD The way this year has been, I think a positive outcome from any resolutions is unlikely. Astrid, another blogger whose posts I like to read, says that she calls them “hopes.” So here are my hopes for 2023: learning to drive, getting a better job, and staying alive. I really just want to be happy, and being able to drive will help with a lot.
What are three words that might describe the kind of person you were this past year or describe in some way how your life looked?
Prosaic, breakup, prayerful
What’s something new you ate, saw, heard, or experienced in 2022? What did you think?
My life is so boring… Working retail. It can be hard, and some customers can get angry at you for no reason, but overall I’ve had a good experience and enjoyed my job. I like being around all the people and praying silently for everyone who comes in.
Oxford Dictionary has announced its word of the year for 2022, and it’s this-goblin mode. Huh? Have you ever heard this phrase? Used this phrase? If you were in charge, what word would you declare word of the year for 2022?
I’ve never heard this phrase until now. However, I don’t know what a good replacement would be. Maybe Wordle, since that game was so popular. I never played it myself, but my mom did, and sometimes I would help her if she got stuck.
Any special plans for an end of year celebration in your house or town?
No, unfortunately. I’ll probably stay up until midnight, but I’ll also have to get up for Mass the next morning, so we’ll see. 🙂
Insert your own random thought here.
The depression was getting pretty bad today, but what helped me feel better was: my family and I watched a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie, and then I hung out with a friend. Usually, I find this time of year extremely triggering because, aside from it getting dark so early, I feel like a disappointment and a failure, and I also hate how time passes. It’s brought to the forefront now. Last year I wanted to, let’s say, self-delete on New Year’s Eve. It’s a tough time, friends….
I'm sorry
I interrupted your Star Trek marathon
With my birth.
We both did --
My brother came first,
11 p.m., and I a whopping
17 minutes later.
You like to joke
That without my brother,
I found your womb
Much more comfortable --
But that comfort
Almost killed me,
Stuck in the process
Of moving from
Life to new life.
I wonder,
What it would have been like,
For my brother to be born
A single twin?
Dusty notebooks, journals
Filled with the slant of cursive
Or disjointed printing in ink --
Dusty notebooks filled with
Memories, which I remember
Both living and writing of --
They come alive again, when
I read, happiness, but so too
The pain of what is missing.
Rescue me from my distress:
Lord, You hear my pleas,
Even if just silently
I do scream, and freeze
'Tween the paths of life and death.
Help me choose the right,
That I may live to praise You
Through this darkest night.
I’m rather proud of this SoCS poem for “Twin/Tween.” Also I am thankful to have been able to write it, as I was expecting to write something a hell of a lot more depressing today (that may still be coming).
My quadrille for DVerse’s quadrille Monday. I don’t really want to link up, because that imposes the obligation to read several other responses, but I’m posting this so might as well. We have many good poets who link up, anyway; reading other quadrilles will be a fun time. 🙂 I’m just blah today. Even with the retreat, I’m still feeling this way. Maybe a little better (see the poem below) but not great.
Feeling caught between
Death,
A brutal death,
And life,
A better life:
Can see accomplishing
That second job,
That’s driver’s license
Or at least riding a bike –
But now, again,
Preferring to sleep.
A second guardian angel
Had better
Wing his way over here.
For SoCS: “-cel-“ I am writing this on Friday because I will be on retreat this weekend and, therefore, without my cell phone. I’m feeling nervous to be without it, which probably means I’m addicted to it and should see if I can go a couple of days without internet and games.
Celebrate
Just being alive
When so much has attacked you —
There must be a reason why you live
After all.
Cell phone
Can open doors,
Yet can be a prison
When it gets in the way of love
Real