I read a book once where the characters wrote their wishes on paper and lit them on fire. They sent them up to their ancestors in the sky. Missives in the smoke.
Blogs are like that. Click delete and it disappears into the cosmos. I like that. You can write anything you want that way. Write down your wishes, dreams, secrets, rages — write anything you want, it doesn't matter. It's not real. It's not permanent.
Nothing is permanent.
Even this feeling right now. Or that feeling yesterday. Sometimes I wonder why people even bother to ask? None of it matters. Whoever has upset you today will be forgotten by Tuesday next week. The broken glass will be swept up and carried away. The ripped shirt will either be mended or tossed out.
I can write anything I want and it doesn't matter. I can write that I don't care about tomorrow. I can't care about tomorrow. I can no longer care about the economy, about my job, about the price of gas or the value of your 401K. Today I have to go home and pick up a little boy, make him dinner and sing him to sleep. All those other things make it hard for me to do that.
Today I have a job.
Today I have a home.
Today I have you.
I may lose you all tomorrow. There is joy in this. There is a sweet breath of relief. Can you feel it? Is it coming through the wires? Everything is impermanent. Nothing lasts. You and I have no control over it. We can't stop disaster.
So let it go.
Ride it out — wherever it may take you.
There's nothing else to be done. If you lose your lover tomorrow, should you spend today worrying about it? Mourn the loss in advance? My best friend is always telling me, "A fool dies a thousand deaths, the hero dies but one."
I choose one. I can't fix any of you. I can't fix any of me. I can't control one damn thing in this universe. All I can do is write these words and let my heart love what it loves.
Beyond that, all is a seething cauldron of stars and shape-shifters, lies and magic. My eyes will never know the difference. So I'll write it all down. I'll settle on words to make out the murky details. I'll cry and I'll rage, I'll laugh and I'll wonder. And none of it will matter. Tomorrow we'll all forget, and play some other drama that means everything again.
Sometimes I think we should set everything on fire.