honesty:

Today I cried at the gym. I was tired, and not ready to analyze the thoughts in my head to my iPod, yet. I watched the news.

 I watched four different channels on coverage of the inexplicable sadness in Japan. The gym is sweltering, and I was working hard, so maybe my tears were passed off as sweat. I hope. I felt sick, watching people cover their mouths, trying to register their surroundings, lifting unhinged doors, calling for their loves. I thought I might have to leave.

I watch the news. I read stories and try to keep up on what's going on. I let the stories filter through me, hearing facts and try to let the sadness go. I do this without being completely aware of it. An excuse is that it's self-preservation; if I focus too much, I'd break down every time I heard current events.

Today was different. With my eyes and heart, I saw the faces, and the school buses folded onto roofs, and the tears of joy after finding a lost dog. I upped the level of the machine and cried some more.

Last night, I felt the heaviness of being alone. It was in my stomach, my shoulders, my chest: I am alone. I sobbed, realizing that I wasn't only alone; I was lonely. I was not invited to a birthday party. I know why, but I didn't expect to feel so...disowned. I choked on my tears, and stood up. Got a beer from the fridge.

I stared at a number. Twenty-six. Twenty-six new matches found in your area.  "For God's sake, I paid for this," I thought. I held on to the smiling, dancing faces on the television and filled out a profile, just knowing any kind of response would make me happy. Happy turned out to be pathetic, lonely, and defensive.

I don't want the numbers, and I don't want to be someone else's number. I don't want to analyze things I can't change, and shouldn't want to change. I don't want to ask "But why?" repeatedly. There is no answer that would make the knot in my belly loosen, and I am learning to stop asking.


I wish we could all magically go to Japan, clean everything up, stop the nuclear explosions, and hug people. Give them hope. I wish we could do that, but I know realistically that it's only a daydream. What I can do is give a little money, and, more importantly, release the negativity within me. Our world is filled with such powerful energies. I cannot, and will not, continue to pollute the air around me with my sadness and fear of moving forward. I will change things, hopefully for the better, that I can control, and let go of things I cannot. "I wish you the best" was always a saying, a politeness. Sometimes, for me lately, a sarcastic thought that exploded in my heart, leaking into dismissive conversations and flippant comments into social outlets.

I am speaking to you. I wish you the best happiness the universe can give you. I cannot continue to be a pollutant. If I can't fly to Japan, or Namibia, or Haiti, or any direction in which my heart pulls me right now, I will do what I can with what I have. My body and mind will no longer be a vessel for self-pity, or doubt in others' actions. Not when there is already so much unhappiness.


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This is what I listened to after the news.
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