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Eyes Cast Downward- Memoir Excerpt

Originally hand written in July 2015 Late Spring of 2014.  Just Months before liver failure Our eyes are nearly always cast dow...

Sunday, November 8, 2015

What Fills?- S. Of C.

It is 2:38 am and I feel empty. I just watched another apocalyptic film. Two hours of it all. 
It was supposed to have a comical theme. I am not laughing. 
It always reminds me how much time is wasted. 
What fills me up? 
Nothing I have experimented with fills me completely. 
I come very close at times. 

When I am too absorbed in the joy of living to think about any supposed lack or unquenchable thirst. When I am laughing. When I am in love. 
When that love is reciprocated. 
When I watch the autumn breeze carry the crisp leaves in the wind. 
When I hear the foliage break beneath my intrusive boots. 
The brittle beautiful things of nature that they are, that we are. 
When I feel that connection to the wind that carries them. 
When I breath in that breeze and my lungs fill up. 
The solid ground beneath my feet. 
I am an extension of the earth. A branch whistling, we are linked.  We live. 

I feel something like roots beneath me, yet we are not separate. 

I love the floating and gliding through the air.
We are dancing when I feel as weightless as them, only sometimes.
When I reach the intersection and the walk signal lights up as my feet come close to the traffic. 
As if on cue. 


When I smile because something random amuses me. When it doesn’t matter at all that I am physically alone when I smile. Knowing someone is out there who is smiling alone as well. 
Perhaps there is even someone who smiles and laughs at the same things I do. 
Better yet, they find this joy for the same reasons. 
Possibility. Hope. I glance behind me, in order to see just how far I have come. Turning my eyes to the distance between where I am going, then to where I stand now. How much closer I am! 
It’s okay that it frightens me, as long as I don’t retract my steps. 
I can even stand still for a moment if I need to, but only for a moment. 

-Stagnation is not a state I find comfortable.  
Empty is far more promising.-
Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen

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