I Believe In Just Another Day

Not every day can be full of pain, and misery, and loss. Not every day. It's just not possible. There are other days, and I love those days almost as much as I love the nights that follow them. But I wonder if there are enough of those other days, I wonder if when you stack the horrible days and the other days together if you get enough days to fill a lifetime, or if all those empty days are really the worst of all.

So I sit here smiling my disaffected smile, that of a man who knows most of the world will die in their sleep and understands that rather illogically most people truly despise that fact and would rather go off in a fiery crash, or some other effulgent blaze of glory. I sit here and think about what comes next, because it seems that all that's really mattered to me lately is how to set right what hasn't happened yet. I spent enough time straightening out what's already happened, and while I hardly think I've learned all my lessons, I know that I have to start moving on. I just don't know how.

There are a lot of things I don't know. And then there others I do. But what's I've always loved more than what I know, is what I believe...

I believe in hard days and long sleepless nights. I believe in the good of man, the will of woman, and the genuine honesty that makes them both human. I believe that it is absolutely not the parts, and that it is indeed the wiring that makes the difference. I believe that for every wrong there is a right, and for every right there are at least half a dozen easier wrongs. I believe that words can hurt, words can heal, words can make the world go round...but that even a million words can not properly describe a single feeling. I believe that for any question, love is the answer...unless of course that question involves people and then the answer is just as likely to be money. I believe that God is good people. I believe that you should play big, or go home...and when you get there you should bake a cake, or paint a picture, or at the very least tidy up a bit. I believe in never giving up, because there is nothing worse in life than wasting time you have yet to waste. I believe in yesterday, and I believe in today, and I believe in tomorrow, because yesterday I was, today I am, and tomorrow maybe I will be. But no matter what happens to me, no matter where I go, or what happens next I believe that tomorrow will be just another day. And I sort of like being able to believe just that.

I've thought some bad things lately, things I had no right thinking, and in the last few days I've managed to wash those thoughts away. But bad thoughts can't be replaced with good ones. The void left by bad thoughts is one that can only be filled with fear and doubt, and since I'm rarely afraid doubt has got me double good. The truth is I don't know what to think. I don't know what my chances of making it are. If it was simple matter of success and failure I could live with that. Being a failure has never really bothered me. You sort of get used to it. It's really a matter of failure and survival. See some people's failures destroy them, but there's so little of "me" left that failure isn't going to hurt me any. It won't finish me off. It'll blow through me like the wind in the trees and when it's done I'll still be standing, albeit slightly tilted to one side with a god awful stench around me most likely. It's just what happens. I was always able to deal with the idea of failing, because in my mind there was only really one fight, and it was the sort of fight that once you lost you really didn't have to worry about anything anymore. But this new idea, the idea that I can both fail and survive, poses a slate of new problems. Problems I'm not ready to face. But for the time being what choice do I have? I'm not going anywhere.

I'm cold, I'm hungry, I'm tired. I'm sitting here wondering why I bothered writing any of this when I don't seem to have gone anywhere with it. And then I remember. It was to tell you something.

This morning I had love in me. It was old, and stale, and not altogether love-like...but it was a love, even if it was never real or realized. And now that's gone. I can't explain how, I can't explain why, but something small that was there this morning is not there now.

I think I will miss it.

And that's all I really wanted to say.