I ponder and purge and analyze.
I leave a record for my future self and others in need.
I mean why have a blog anyway, if it’s not to bear witness.
If it’s not to find the words that cannot be spoken.
To help others. To help us remember.
Already this blog has helped me remember things I don’t ever want to forget.
In the face of nightmares and trauma, such a task is more difficult than it sounds.
Every experience is data. But some experiences are like the difference between 8 bits or 8 gig.
The human mind can only process so much all at once.
And trauma tends to rape and rob us of the precious and good moments in the face of extremes.
We can focus on the trauma, or we can can dig past and seize the love.
I have sacred memories in here somewhere.
Memories I want. Memories I earned. Memories I am owed.
If I want to be able to see and remember more, I have to be willing to face the unwanted, so I can then look over its shoulder and see my Beloved behind.
But I need to acknowledge the unsavory to find the precious.
I have to dig in the muck to find my dropped pearls.
Come here Hell, it’s time for you to pay rent.
I have a job for you.