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Just a week

Some times all it takes is just a week.

Being home puts you in familiar places and familiar places call, to the heart and to the mind, familiar habits. In other words, it is easy to do exactly the same thing you have always done if you stay in exactly the same place, surrounded by exactly the same people.

I suppose that this week has been a fortunate thing for me, for, the last thing I needed to do this time around was what I have done every other time around. In case you’d forgotten, I shall give a reminder:

  1. Lose my temper
  2. Lack patience
  3. Close doors and lock them
  4. Turn my face away and turn my back
  5. Walk away, walk away, walk away
  6. Numb my feelings in high-class booze and meaningless work
  7. Bury my memories in unmarked graves
  8. Lose the map to the cemetery

Instead, this time, I did not have the cold comfort of a meaningless job. I did not lose my temper and lack patience upfront (instead I went to someone to talk about it and talk about it and talk about it). I did not numb my feelings; instead I started swimming and slowed down my drinking. I stayed in the gray area despite my discomfort. I risked the slap to the face and the shoving off.

I held fast in my memory. I am not losing the map.

Right now, I sit in a different city from my home. So for me to go out, I need to reach out to people who are old friends and are less familiar with callous-riddled version of me. They remind me back to my more innocent self.

My work is new and so it is refreshing and engaging; it requires both my attention and my care so my mind is not idle enough to dwell on negative things and my teeth are not grinding in existential frustration.

Some times it just takes a week. A few days to let things settle; a few days to gain fresh eyes on something when you have been too close to it; a few days to breathe in, breathe out, to gain some perspective and a little bit of peace.

I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know what happens when I go back to my home. I don’t know anything outside of the present of which I am finally, actually, present in. I do know this:

I am ready for it.


About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.


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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

October 2016
« Sep   Dec »


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