"Why don't you say something once in a while? Tell me about the weather if nothing else."

"I'm not Mr. Maltby, I'm three hundred Indians."

Right now/today/all the time I'm thinking about change. How sometimes our lives change so drastically we start to categorize ourselves and our behavior using "before" or "after" that event. But maybe not so plainly. And sometimes there is such a disconnect between how things used to be and how they are now that we start to forget how it was. When my dad passed away, I didn't just lose my dad. Things that used to define me as a person simply did not exist anymore, like the place I called home and my family unit of four. Sometimes it's hard to wrap my mind around this. I love my life. I love my family, my friends. I love my new home. But sometimes I do struggle with the fact that this is all new. It's hard that some of the most important people in my life right now, or from the last couple of years, don't know my "old life."  I used to watch movies or read books and wonder why the characters felt so guilty when a loved one passed away and they felt like they were moving on too quickly. I always thought "well DUH. they would want you to be happy. DUH. It's not that difficult." But it's true, in a way I do feel guilty. I don't feel like I'm forgetting my dad or who he was. But with fewer ties to my home and how things were, I feel like I'm forming a completely new life here and I can't decide if that's bad or not. Well I know it's not bad. It's new. It's good. I just don't like the disconnect.

But I knoowww I know I know change is inevitable. And we wouldn't learn much without it. And it's okay to hurt for a little and then we snap out of it. Life is about progression, ya? We have to adapt. Life is weird. Life is hard. Life is good.

no ones birthday but this is funny right

Will I ever NOT be confused about one certain aspect of my life?

"We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor. It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of day, that is the highest of arts."
- hdt

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