Status Updates From real ones

"Grief is such a funny thing. It stays with you, you know. It gets to be that it's all you have left."

You can see where I am going with this. Or maybe only I can right now. See how it all comes together.
Circles. Earth. Back to earth. Back home. Something like that. Something aligned with the stars and sun and
moon.
A performance.
An active display.
Both
Neither

I think the whole point of art is to see. Maybe you see what the artist wants you to see, maybe you see something else. Doesn't matter. We really only ever see ourselves anyway. Anything we read or hear-books sculpture painting music—is only what we are, us reflected back to us. Who cares what the artist intended as long as you got something out of it.

The thing about leaving is at some point it stops. The leaving becomes left and then you're only someplace else.

I stop. The way he cuts through, sees me, still jars me open.
I don't cry. So sick of crying. I'm mad now. I wish I was mad all the way through.
…
For a moment I was grateful she was there, that I didn't have to have yet another moment all alone.
But then I felt it all the way through me, and it sunk down into all the small parts of me, and I wanted her to go, didn't want her to see just how far down I could fall.

I believe in everything or maybe I believe in anything I have
searched for joy searched for peace love balance compassion not happiness will settle for contentment I have had my moments