this is what happens when i’m tired

The sound of goodbyes is like sandpaper. It’s course and gritty and it makes me clench my teeth and shut my eyes tight. Some things will never leave, they bring a constant stream of hellos. They are the miniscule details of life that deserve to be blown into full focus. The rainbow splitting and scattering in the soap bubbles floating from the sink and the feeling of blankets swallowing your legs and when a little kid reaches for your hand and music that stirs something you thought was dead and gone. It’s like all these little gifts are being thrown at us all day and we’re too busy to notice. These gifts are practically pelting us in the midst of our ingratitude and discontent. These gifts are begging to quench our thirst for a sign that this all matters. They are the small stitches that work together to form one miraculous whole. The foundations of our lives are built upon the seemingly trivial details. Build a strong foundation by embracing the stitches or watch everything crumble when you don’t let them strengthen you.
I get so stuck on the rips and the tears and the inconveniences that I discount the small things, and that’s nothing less than being myopic. We permit ourselves to be discontent instead of dealing with the snags and wholeheartedly applauding the seams. I learned in Biology that the average person has anywhere from 50 to 100 genetic mutations. The mutations are snags in the original design, but it doesn’t detract from us as people. I am still Amanda, 75 mutations and all. Despite the mutations, I am grateful for health. Why can’t we do the same thing in daily life?
We don’t think about atoms much. At least, I don’t.  But without the intricacies of the electrons and the orbitals and the protons, there would be no “bigger picture”. Without the smallest things, there would be nothing significant.
Everything in this world can be turned into an analogy for something so much bigger than ourselves. The growth of trees, the roots, the water that falls from the sky.

I’ve had days of gold and I’ve had days of grey but without them both I’d just be a blank page.
Blank pages bring rage and uncertainty and a lack of experience, an unwillingness to begin. to conquer. to try. To perservere until the unstained white page has both its tears and its repairs, its luster and its shade. The shiny and the dull go hand in hand, and one is nothing without the other. How would we be able to appreciate the shiny if we didn’t have the contrast of dull?

New favorite song: Daughter – Landfill

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