i realized today i can't hate anyone even if i want to hate someone. i just feel bad for them. i sit here and i remind myself that i can't hate them for what they are used to, perhaps my intentions are assumed by past experience. and i guess everyone has a right to the way they feel, even if they want to feel that i'm stupid for caring. maybe someday they'll learn there are people out there that don't feel like playing games that are just compassionate people.
or if i'm wrong at least i can learn the lesson my dad taught me a long time ago when he told me the story about the woman who played a man for a winning lottery ticket and the man said (after finding out he was played-used) "maybe she needed it more than i did". maybe not, maybe so, no reason to upset an otherwise happy memory with a tainted attitude.
so instead i wrote a letter to billy on a cloud, it calmed me down. i didn't want to have an awful day like yesterday. i still have many good friends out there. krazy came up around this time and talking to him always cheers me up, even if it's just him or i ranting on about our jobs. i told him i thought tristan was right about a few things and how sometimes i keep coming across that lesson about caring too much about people. he said i should be more picky, i think about that... but i don't know. maybe i needed to learn something as well and who am i to think my heart is so great that i have to feel people 'earned' my compassion.
in truth i had a wonderful time at johnny's wedding. i'm glad i got to spend time with those very dear to me. to regret one moment is to take away from the beauty of what all of it was.
as cody told me once, "I can choose to listen, or not to. Just because they say bad things about me doesn't mean I have to listen to it. I can still have a good time with my friends that don't."
so anyways, i couldn't hate my so called friend. the laughs and smiles and amazing times that were spent in so little was good and he can exist in those moments.
my friend is coming to visit and teach me guitar and about art museums. a small piece of home that extends to this unknown place i have found myself at for the past five years of my life. it is like reading a story where you know all the places and have walked down all the roads. you know all the characters and silly tidbits that don't actually come out in the words. they understand the forgotten concrete bridges on the back roads and the sneaky secrets that the backroads contained... and where the haunted caves were and how they got their names. did you know if you jumped off one of the cliffs there and swam down deep deep deep below there is a car down there? now how did a car get inside of a cave?
they said they sacrificed babies in those caves, some many ages ago when my mother was young like my son.
i miss home. i miss what it meant once. i miss the people who knew everyones business and brought you a couch even if they didn't know who you were just cause you moved into a new house and a neighbor would bring you some potatoe salad and invite you to their bbq to get to know their neighborhood even if you lived in a trailer and didn't have any decent shoes.
i miss fireflys. natures nightlight that kept away the monsters in the shadows of our nature. maybe that's why johnny is so happy all the time.