8:03 p.m. - 04/16/03
there...and running around | and following me...
I don't have many of my own words: Migraine. Slacking. Sadness. Depression? Missing. Home. Lost. Little. ...but I heard this today:
"...You're amazing. You have this glorious gift for helping people see things. It goes way beyond the fact that you're an incredible writer. You're an incredible person and that's what does it, I think. Words like that are only as good as the heart and soul behind them. And the things you say and do and feel and set in motion are so wonderful. You're just very beautiful. In all the ways it's possible to be beautiful and I hope you know that. Or at least can open yourself up to that possibility and not ever rule it out."
And well, that isn't all of what was said or what has helped, but at least it's reminded me why I'm so glad to be here. Here, as in, alive. And I won't be here as in D!@#$%^ for much longer; I think my parents found a place today. So maybe soon I'll be here as in with myself again. Maybe soon I'll be there, as in home.
chord
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