sink swim sweep keep

Oh fuck it.

I want to be happy. I don't want to let her or him or that get me down anymore. I've said this before, but it's a new year, no? Well, according to my calendar of sleepy kittens, it is a new year which doesn't really mean anything. But let's pretend that it does. Let's pretend that it means I get to be happy. Let's pretend that it means I get to move past IT. Let's pretend that I become a really peaceful, warm human being instead of a paranoid, weepy girl surrounded by a self-built brick wall.

Let's not pretend it never happened.

Because it did. And I'm not going to sweep anything under a rug because, well, frankly I don't have a rug and I have a dust pan from IKEA. Point is, I am going to stop pretending and actually be. I am going to be happy, I am going to move past it, I am going to be full of peace and warmth. And I definitely know it happened. I know it every single day. I suffer every single day. BUT here's the catch: I know (but sometimes forget) other people suffer as well. I want to reduce the amount of suffering in the world, which means first reducing the suffering inside of myself. It also means forgiveness. It also means allowance. I can't suffocate suffering; I need to experience it and look at it and work through it. Without question I have experienced it. But that's where I stop and where the metaphorical rug comes in.

Throw out the rug. Throw out the destructive comfort I find in sadness. Throw out the replay button. Throw out the mud of 2009 and jump into the clear pools of 2010. Note: I cannot swim, so stop taking everything so literally. I will stop taking everything so seriously. I will laugh this year. I will be okay. Come what may. Also, come May I will know how to swim. OR MAYBE NOT? Yeah. Probably not.