Rolling Stones
JUL 27
I feel like I’ve been turning over the same stone on repeat, expecting there to be something else on the other side. So instead of turning it over again, I’m going to set it down here for good.
I know nothing I say now will make much sense. Hence the stone I have turned so often it may have smoothed into something else. The most sound thing I can say is being back home is not easy. It brings me back to things I left too soon to figure out. Bits and pieces of dirt on the bottom of this stone that have had my undivided attention since being back. Here they are.
I don’t think matter is measured in its response to hurt. The right measure is what’s done. That’s why the feeling of fresh hurt feels so gross and awkward. I never know what to do with myself but feel shitty and stare at a wall. I don’t have the proof to react any different, because that takes time.
Effort is too often referred to as a feeling. Like caring is something that just happens. But caring is a value system. Like a calendar system, it needs dates. The first things built are top of mind, they matter first, everything after that is leftovers. Leftover time is like a thought wearing the costume of something valued. You can be there for it, happy for it, and still know that you weren’t planned for.
It’s hard to say without sounding dramatic. Saying something is hard is not the same as doing something about it. When it’s repeated without any difference, it starts sounding like a placeholder for difference. A response minus responsibility.
Priority is proven by sequence. It gives a long-term confidence that’s worlds different from the relief of being told something matters. It’s about whether the people you love can see how you spend your time and recognize the shape of themselves in it.
On a different yet similar note: my old bedroom. It’s perfect, I spent a whole childhood of Christmas lists making sure of that. Prints, bedding, stuffed animals, lights, all carefully thought through and begged for. Yet I feel the urge to pack up everything in here and sell it all off, just to rid myself of the materialization of the worries I left behind.
If I sell what’s in this room, I can use the money on the room I’m moving into come August. Patterns might be boring, but they’re important where it matters.
A rolling stone gathers no moss.