Stories. Not a blog.

WORKING ON THE ENDEAVOR. STORIES ARE MAGIC. THIS LIFE IS A GIFT.

Why does procrastination exist; and why am I a slave to it? For years I've tried to be productive and efficient and. . . Ugh, I'll finish my thought later.

Godspeed.

C. W.

I wrote a post on May 29th about a book I was supposed to have finished by tomorrow (Saturday) for my book club. After a traumatizing experience reading that sucker (and a few days of careful meditation) I am now ready to share my (very unnecessary) thoughts.

Never in my life have I read a book (or textbook) that has made me feel as dumb as On War and Morality by Robert L. Holmes did. Wow, just wow. For the life of me I couldn't get past page three and believe me when I say it wasn't for lack of trying.

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I'm feeling overwhelmed right now. I have been trying to finish a part of my Endeavor for almost three weeks and I've barely made any progress. Illness—both mental and physical—has kept me in bed for hours (and even days) on end, and severe sleep deprivation has made whatever waking time I have a completely misery.

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How ya doin' Sharpie Kid? Are you still alive? After snorting and sniffing black ink all the time? I remember the days when you used to chew, Black Sharpies and markers til' your lips turned dark blue. It's been over a decade since I've seen you, So, Sharpie Kid, are you still sniffing glue (too)?

You are the brightest gem I know. Heck! You're the only gem I know, but that doesn't change how I feel about you.

I love you—a lot. And I hate that I've never said this to you, but you are also my gift. My gift from God. And that is why I hate that I hurt you without trying. I hate that I am not adequately able to help you; because, like you, I am also struggling. Yes, I know. I know you are struggling, but I don't know why. Or how. Or for how long. Or how to help.

Littlest of gems, I can see it in your eyes. You are just like me; trying (and sometimes failing) to get by. That is a burden I will carry for as long as I live—and whatever lies beyond death, too. That as your older sister I am/was not able to help or protect you.

Maybe someday, when we are old and blind in one eye and deaf in one ear, we will be able to sit down. And you will speak with me for a minute or two. And you will tell me why, the gate to your castle was nearly as locked as mine.

By then, though, when we are old and blind in one eye and deaf in one ear, I hope you will be joyous and happy. And that many blessings were bestowed upon you. Littlest of gems, maybe someday you can forgive me too?

I love you sweet boy. You are a gift. My gift. A gift from God. My gift from God. You are a gift. A perfect and wonderful gift. A gift from the stars. A gift from the universe.

You are light, because you came from light. And you are perfect because you are made from everything that is good and pure and sweet and kind and marvelous and holy. You are perfect and I love you. I always have and I always will. My love, I will never get tired of saying it.

I love you sweet boy. Now and forever. Until the end of time—and whatever lies beyond that too— I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. ∞

I have released a great pain from my heart. (thank you, stranger, for listening; that is all I have ever wanted—someone that is willing to listen; and you have done that admirably) (and now) I am ready to move on.

I am calmer now. Slightly at peace. The balance is returning; I am spent, but optimistic. Careful and cautious, but filled with the tiniest spark of joy.

And it is thanks to me and you—whoever it is that you are. (know that i love you!)

Stranger, After keeping this great pain inside for 5 days straight; after thousands of tears and suicidal horrible thoughts, I released it all.

And I am calmer now. Slightly at peace. Careful and cautious, but filled with the tiniest spark of joy.

And it is thanks to me and you—whoever it is that you are. (know that i love you!)

Stranger, I released a great deal of pain from my heart. And I did it in less than two hours. And that, my beloved, is the power of being in love (and not just loving; but lets not ruin the “prose” for this) with your passion.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for listening. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Wherever you are, Good morning, Good afternoon, Good evening, Good night.

(good luck!)

(and in whatever it is that you do,) Godspeed.

Much love,

C. W.

When you choose to involve yourself in an argument (that does not concern you) You immediately make me lose respect for you. Why did you ask if I had anything to say? When you shouldn’t have been there in the first place! Why did you ask if I wanted to explain? When all had been said and the damage was made?

When you chose to involve yourself in an argument (that did not belong to you) You immediately made me not want to talk to you. Why did you stand there, high and mighty, looking down at me from below? As if you knew something that we did not. (you didn't, and you never will; so why did you do it?)

When you involved yourself in an argument (that did not belong to you) You became complicit in my misery too. You became an arbiter of “truth”. Of falsities and lies. You became an arbiter of truth that does not know the whole story. (and never will; so why did you do it? don't say “to try to understand”, because we both know that's bullshit! you have never understood and you never will...and that is OKAY; so I ask you again— knowing full well that you have never understood and that you never will— why did you do it?)

(i still love you though, and I always will; forever and ever, until the end of time)

And that, my dear, is where the problem is. (with you… and I guess to be fair with me too; for not explaining; even though I don’t have to. and for loving too much, and for not saying it as often as we should)

The end.

Speak up! Be brave! Please help me, I'm scared too!

(i know it's a big ask, but won't you help me fight against the monster in blue?)

Speak up! Be brave! Please help me! Don't abandon me, too! I need you to defend the love I have for you.

My darling, my dearest, I hope you can forgive me. It's okay if you don't, I won't despise you if you won't! But for my sake I had to get this out. Out in the open, where no one knows who I am. Where only a few are listening. (only a few, but they are still there. listening.)

So again, I say,

Speak up! Be brave! Please help me! Don't abandon me, too! I am, after all, exactly like you.

Just trying to figure the world out.

(love you!)

Your silence makes you complicit in my misery. Your fear of confrontation makes you a fool. And a coward. But despite all of this, I love you too.

You're young and you're trying. As I once did too. And despite your silence being deafening, I still love you too.

You see, that is family. And that is what love will do. It will make you withstand—and understand, someone hurting you too.

And I love you. I love you. I love you. I do.

Even though your silence hurts my soul too.

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