Sometimes people let words come out of their mouths that they think are fairly innocuous. Maybe critical, but not enough to make the recipient cave. What they don't realize is that sometimes their words are added to the critical comments of countless others who create a symphonic cacophony--of hurtful remarks. cacophonics, if you will permit me to coin.
So, last night I battled the whispered lies that I am worthless. Today, I battle them again. I think about this bird (I photographed him on my last birthday, which wasn't the best day either), and I think about his thoughts. He's mulling over whether or not to jump, I think.
I mull over jumping myself and its results. And then, I remember. What a waste of time for me to think this. What a waste of time, Mr. Bird, for you to think this. Jumping is not the fabric of our creation.
We were made to fly.
2 comments:
I want to cry no where else but in your arms, right now. I miss you and don't miss being far away from you. You'll always be m favorite. so don't go thinking otherwise.
the memphis Laura
hmmm...indeed. It has so much to do with perspective.
(aside): I wonder if the sky ever gets distracted when it sees people tipping cows.
Thanks for the sweet words, Laura. I miss you to. There's no one I'd rather sleep in a twin bed with than you and the eight million other people we used to cram in on those August nights.
Post a Comment