Timeless
Journal entry
I’ve been thinking a lot about time and the passage of it. I can’t believe 2010 was 8 years ago. That so much has happened and changed, and that I can sometimes still feel stuck. Even with all that’s different about me and mine today, I feel unmoved and perhaps like my old self in a new body. I feel tinges of regret and guilt about choices I made and ones I had absolutely no say in. Feelings that would not have occurred to me even two years ago, when things were different but not so vastly as five years ago.
I wonder what things could have been different if someone had stayed, or paid a bit more money. If someone else was still alive or came around more. And I marvel at all the ways life has unfurled itself. To me, to my mom, my siblings. Sometimes I’m jealous. Of how other people get to move through existence. Mostly out of insecurity and a seemingly perpetual desire to get out. Get up. To make something of the seconds, minutes, days, that is more than what came out of the ones lost to me. And mine.
Time. Seems like there’s been so much of it when I look in the mirror. Like my skin used to be darker—so August feels like years ago. And I’ve slept in so many different beds: makeshift planks and metal, in a basement, across from an abuser, and where my nemesis used to lay her head. So the last few years seem like they never stopped happening.
And then I look out at the world where it suddenly feels like there’s never enough time. To earn another dollar, or catch yourself before you make a life-altering decision. So tomorrow seems distant and gone all at once.
In between the lapses of time, there’s me—stuck. Somehow. Between what I thought should never have happened because we were all headed in a different direction, and the reality that that particular direction would lead us to endlessness. Places where our time would always be in someone else’s hands to contort and abuse as they see fit. Stuck between palms, shrines, politics, confines, and parcels of identity.
I can’t believe I’m here. Today. The woman that I am with so much shit padding my shoulders. Yesterdays and 5 years agos telling me to forgive certain people, and reminding me of things seeming lost to me, now.
Tomorrows flirting with ten years from now, neither promising anything.
And today, just waiting around for me.