7.30.07

reading through old entries, i realize that i speak so often in terms of ultimates; things that are quantified; things that are finite, things that possess more of some quality than any other thing i have previously encountered, whether it be a quality of impactfulness or amazingness or any other similar such thing.

foolish, i say. i have felt awe before, and i will feel it again. i have felt magic and love before, and i have felt the need to be alone before, and i have felt sickness and health and anger and all of it. i can only write about the different forms of sadness or the different uses of isolation for so long before it seems that i am running in circles and getting nowhere.

here's what i want to write about:

things can be replaced. never verbatim as they were, but close approximations. friends are lost and friends are gained. wounds heal and gaps are filled. nothing is the same, but why would we want it to be? happiness goes and returns. old loves return with the seasons and with the holidays. things lost are never lost, even if they are never again seen.

despite this, i am willing to give new things in my life a chance; willing to place them above memories, since memories are just that, and since the things that created the memories are gone. i'm willing to attempt to live for the now. not for the now alone, but for the now more than for the past.

things are so simple sometimes.