Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Don't It Make You Want To Go Home

Stop the presses! I have figured it all out. I have never gotten over anything. No, really. I mean any thing. I'm the anti- Buddha. I know better. I just can't help it. I remember every hurt, every fight, every word said in anger. I'm aware that all meanness comes from hurt. Peace of mind can only come from letting all of that go, right?

Well, as sad as any of it, no, the saddest of any of it  is the hurting that I have done to others. I suffer with memories of things that I said to other kids in elementary school. I regret every dog that I've passed on the street without stopping. 

Wringing my hands won't help but changing my ways will. I've never much cared for sarcasm. Seems like a poor man's substitute for clever. I'm sarcastic. I was. If you catch me backsliding, help me out. I'm living with love from here on out.

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