This is a collection of quotes and poems which I use to validate some of my mindless thoughts and feelings about myself and life in general.
I tried something new here... I used any pictures that I have taken, and I wrote the poems over them. Each...
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Author summary
We passed my father the other day, and I wanted to text him to just be like, "hey we just passed you!!" But I didn't, because he was driving. A few moments later, we passed his father. Not driving, rather, walking. Walking down the snowy road, in a camouflage jacket, and a beer in his hand. Walking and drinking himself into oblivion. Did he think no one could see him in his camouflage? Does he want to be seen? Or heard? Or thought of? Did he wonder if his son and his girlfriend (of three years whom he has never even met), would ever see him this way? I kissed my love and put my hand on the back of his neck and massaged gently the way I always do. We sat there, allowing our overwhelmingly obnoxious thoughts fill the silence in the car. "Pretty strange, the feeling we get when we see your dad versus seeing mine" he says, quietly breaking the silence. That is the only thing I could think of. The feeling. Is it possible to think yourself into feeling? Yes. Apparently. I think he does it all the time. He doesn't feel first, he has to register, think, reflect, then, maybe... MAYBE he can feel. I feel instantaneously. I feel without even thinking sometimes. I notice and feel everything, and it is not by choice.
I see it. I hear it. I FEEL it. I absorb it all.
I cry for those who cannot, and I feel what people are numb to.
Too analytical. Too sensitive. Too overwhelming.
Perhaps a blessing in disguise. I am grateful to feel, but also resentful. It is not fair that I could feel so much, while others have the potential to feel, but are unable to. I break through, sobbing... hard... He does not shed a tear. "Baby, why are you crying?" He asks. He has no feeling, I think to myself. He is numb to the pain that stings me time after time. My heart breaks a hundred times a day for those who cannot feel. "WHY ARENT YOU!?!? Please CRY WITH ME" I begged. He still didn't. Rather, he comforted me from his own painless pain. I feel for you. I breathe for you. I live for you. I love you Brandon Michael Bishop, until the day I die. Don't be afraid to feel, it's okay to cry.
