Staying moving…

I stay moving… not to escape grief… but to confront it.
on my terms.

Sleeping in the passenger seat. And thinking about the path I am on…

Even though I have no idea what I am doing.

Pain should never be allowed to ferment into anger… into bitterness

You don’t want tragedy to make you an asshole… 

So in my week off… I painted a self portrait… I went to Vegas. I went to Disneyand… Good and tired and resting now.

Time for reading and reflection among activity and motion and motion…

Bright lights and lots of walking… and food I shouldn’t eat… and noise…

And paint all over the carpet…

Where in the recesses of my psyche is pain unexpressed?
Where is the darkness of grief unrevealed?

It is all a guess.

Where are the memories that trigger tears? Will today be a good day? 
What do I keep from my son’s too short life? ..
So the second week looks more like painting, cleaning, correcting papers…

Sounds about right. 


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