“When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder.
Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from a chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table. I spent my life learning to feel less. Every day I felt less. Is that growing old? Or is it something worse? You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.”
You ever look at yourself in the mirror and have one of those really introspective movie-esque moments? You know the ones I mean, where time stops and you’re suddenly no longer looking at your reflection – you’re looking at what you’ve become. Quickly, you realize you’re either really pleased with who you are at the moment or you’re utterly disgusted at your unrecognizable self. Of course there are in-between layers; layers comprised of complacency, apathy, and mild repulsion but regardless of the feeling and where it lies on the scale, that moment of self-realization is always enlightening.