On freedom, and its recourses.

Right, blog entries, right, assignment, right, due, okay, now, on it, gotcha.

The problem is, she notes, I don’t have anything to say that I haven’t said before in a more interesting manner. Here’s where I insert: redundancy is like the rain, though. Eventually you accept it as an inevitability.

The problem … honestly, the problem is I’m not feeling very flip today; have not, in fact, felt very flip in some weeks. Blame the season, or my 70+ hour/7 Day schedule and the subsequent fatigue of being genuinely too tired to care. I don’t know. Blame whatever.

There is a greater root which I may have nailed last night while staring desperately at the wall like I do when sleep runs off without me. It was some half-spun notion revolving haplessly around the state of being tetherless; of freedom not always being so worth fighting for. Freedom can also mean flailing, drifting, unbound and aimless, towards some murky future impossible to foresee.

I do feel unbound, mostly. If I’m going to be brutally honest, I’ve felt unbound since being orphaned (I almost wrote ‘abandoned’, yes, abandoned, which is ridiculous; childish and cliché -- but goddamnit, I was, I can say, at least in my head). In November, my mother will be dead five years. It’s kind of mind-blowing. It doesn’t feel like five years, but each day makes her face a little foggier, the details sharpened by photographs and subsequently paper thin. I remember her face in pictures, but often struggle for genuine memory. I don’t even know what genuine memory is, anymore. Flashes, occasionally. The feeling that I was there, it happened, there were witnesses. But I never could understand how people transcribed 20 year old conversations in memoirs. It’s impossible. When I read them, I feel lied to.

[Right about here is where I would normally apologize for meandering, but “meandering” implies there was a base to meander from, and I’m not sure I quite got there.]

So my parents are dead, I have no tethers, and freedom is sometimes a curse. Covered. But I have my husband. But I have my brothers & nieces & some awesome & not-crazy inlaws. But I have the kind of friends that I would follow off that proverbial bridge. I have a decent job. I’m going to school for something I love to do. I have a roof and food and clothes and video games. What else do I need.

Ohhhhhhhh, right. Purpose & passion. Damn.