Definitions

How difficult it is to keep caring about life.  Is that ennui or apathy?  Whatever.

Assuming that you one day become a parent, what one thing do you hope to teach your children?

I am shadowed by the ghost of my unconceived daughter.  She was never born, nor even a glimmering.  There was no opportunity, nor time enough, nor even retrospect opportunity.  She wasn't, except in my wishes for myself and for her.  Her name is Alaura.  She is my daughter who never was.  She missed all that I would teach her, and I missed all that she would give me.  My body is unchanged, except by time.  My legacy is mine and mine alone.  I will not create life to remember me.  I am only here to remember.  And I remember my daughter who never was.

336

What is holding you back from the lifestyle you desire?  Money?  Health?  Job?  Family?  No matter your current situation, you CAN achieve your dreams, in less time than you think!  By making small, easily sustainable changes in your life, you will smoothly transition into the person you always knew you could be, with the money, health, job and family of which you've always dreamed.

How?

Your first step is VISUALIZATION.  You need to picture yourself where you've always wanted to be.  Make a list of your desires, and even add pictures.  Post it where you will see it every morning when you awake, and look at it before you leave your bed.  Visualize your ideal life for five minutes every morning.  Now you're well on your way!

251

Today is the day that my grandmother died.  She was 97 and was born in 1917.  We all knew it was coming, but, still.

It makes me sad I didn't get to see her one last time.  That the last time I saw her was the one last time, though it was a good visit.  Gram patted my hand and looked at my arm and said, "You are so white."  I said, "Thanks, Gram.  It runs in the family, you know."  I'm not sure she knew who I was, but Gram was always friendly and happy.  Always happy.  Always smiling.  Gram didn't always live a smooth life, but she still came out happy.  I try to remember that when I hear myself whining or getting ready to be snippy.

I love you, Gram.

235

The moon rose over the canyon wall, big and white and clear.  The rocks were still warm, but the air had been gathering a chill.  It was still, cloudless, the stars stretching out to forever and the start of the universe.  Cabe lay dying in his sleeping bag.  He had maneuvered himself so the fire was behind him and his head propped up on one of the low, warm rocks.  The additional heat from the fire warmed the top of his wispy-haired head.  Cabe shivered and stared at the moon, trying to gain perspective on his place in the world before he was gone from it.

182

How life goes up and down on such small events.  Not even "events"--just things.  Up, and all is great and years of happiness lie in the future of sunshine and warm breezes.  Down, and nothing is ever good and nothing every will be good in the endless, pointless, cheerless moments that make up a future unwanted.  A simple change of perspective based on a glance from a stranger.  A barrage of self-loathing after a minor failure in the kitchen.  A dropped dish.  An overcooked meal.  A heavy cloak of hopelessness when a to-do list remains undone, down to the last, easy chore.

It's a wonder life continues at all.

181

I know what I will look like when I am old.  My eyes have acquired time travel, and I can see it.  I can see the skin, thinning and wrinkling into a thousand tiny creases on my face, my arms, my legs, my belly.  I can see my bones protruding, knuckles swelling, muscles weakening.  My skin is discolored with age spots, nicks and scars, and is blue with veins and bruises.  My shoulders roll forward and I will move stiffly and sit, one arm stiff, one hip raised.  I see my friends and family deteriorating faster and faster.  Buildings age before my eyes even faster than the humans.  I see other things, too.  Things I don't understand and that don't seem to concern me.  I know these are the things I will shake my gray head at, careful not to turn too far.  The eyes of my mind see through future time, too, and I can see how it will turn back to the memories of my past.  I know which experiences I will recount over and over.  I know what I will regret and what I will cherish.  Time travel is heavy.  It weighs on a body.  My eyes get a far-away look that has nothing to do with vagueness of sight or cataracts.  It is time travel.

179

Life is repetition.  Breathing.  Eating.  Sleeping.  Wake, eat, work, eat, work, eat, sleep.  Again!  The scenery is the same.  The view from your face is the same.  Life feels the same under your fingertips.  Under your feet.  In your bones.  The sun comes up, clouds, moon, dark, stars.  All are variations of the same.  Same.  Same.  Soon you can hear the ticking of time, repeating each second, marking the forward progression.  Next.  Next.  Next.  Same.  Same.  Same.

Many people believe that wisdom is knowing how others will react, but it is, rather, recognizing the sameness in yourself.  I will say this in this situation.  I will feel this when I do that.  I can predict how my body and brain will respond.

There is another level of this wisdom that hardly anyone can achieve, and that is being able to change the sameness.

29

I went to sleep with a gun in my mouth, and now that I'm awake I'm wondering what made me fail to finish the job. I don't mean in a "I'm such a puss" kind of way, but rather a serious, "Why didn't I?" kind of reflection. There must have been something I thought was worth living for, or some idea, a plan, a hope, a guardian angel; if only I could remember what it was.