We forget we will be okay.

Today is a cold day and a good one for snuggling up to write. I wish I had way more time to write but there's so much homework to do. It reminds me of a poem we read this semester that was translated from a French poet. He wakes up in the morning and gets ready, and has so much to do, and so he must write. That poem reminded me a lot of my father and a lot of myself whenever I say I don't have time to write. Here's my vow to write more often.

Today my friend told me a story about one of her best friends who was overseas and lost limbs. They are trying to stabilize him so they can send him back to the States, but he's not doing well. She was very upset. A while later, one of my other friends came by asking for advice about girl problems. He was also very upset... but it puts it in perspective what "bad" means, and we forget that we'll be okay. I hope he comes to understanding that. Although I want to be clear that everyone should be open to expressing their emotions. It made me think though:

Today has been a shitty day

but not for me.

I don't sleep anymore.

but that's okay.

Things could be much worse than fatigue.

Fatigue and yawning.

My legs are both here.

My arms, elbows, hands

My tree branch fingers.

I wish my fingers were longer.

They are not. But I have them.

They are bruised and swollen

But I have them.

And with them, I write.