Does anyone even read words anymore? And I don’t mean the newspaper, magazines, meaningless pages and pages of garbage. Words, I mean heartfelt words that are oftentimes written from deep within broken hearts and spirits, shattered hopes and dreams, tragedy and depression. Does anyone remember the greatness that can come from these words?
I’ve been horrible at keeping up with my blog. For awhile there I was doing well, posting a Weekend Coffee Share every Sunday, and attempting a Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers post a few times. Was it a few times? Maybe I never published it. A few other posts as well, but then I just kinda fell away. I watched my number of readers climb and it amazed me. I often wondered Do these people even care about what I’m writing?
Maybe that’s why I don’t stay consistent with my writing. Because I figure what I have to say doesn’t matter much to anyone but me. And that’s okay with me. Afterall, I write for myself and maybe one other. One other that I’m always hoping will read my words. I always hope that this one person will understand what I am trying to say, where I am coming from. I don’t know if they do. That doesn’t much matter either though.
What can I say that would be real? And I don’t mean real in the sense of chatter about my day. My days are very mundane. Repetitive. Exhausting. I tried to explain once to someone that I love how exhausting life is for me and I think it depressed them. But it’s the truth. It’s the same motions, the same people, the same job, the same talk day in and day out. It’s like that movie Groundhog Day, you know, with Bill Murray. Always waiting to wake up and not be stuck on repeat. Only that never happens.
The thought of adulthood used to depress me when I was a child. The reality of working my fingers to the bone to buy a house and car and extravagant things for myself, my family, only to spend the rest of my life indebted to paying these things off. Adulthood always seemed like such a ripoff. And sometimes I still feel like this.
Ah yes, but the small things! Things like watching this tiny pup of mine in her playful days, becoming accustomed to her new surroundings while building bonds with our family. Things like watching my son excel in football this season. Listening to my Oldest Daughter sing in her school’s choir. Listening to Youngest Daughter tell me interesting things she learned in school and her artwork! It’s wonderful! No, these things make these dreadfully disappointing days worthwhile. It’s just all the moments in between that disappointment me.
These days move far too quickly yet all the while I feel as though I am standing still.