Late Evening Stupor

Do you ever think about point of view, about the story of the earth?? Each of us sees the world as, more or less, our story, in first person, everything that happens to us, everything we think and do and hear about. But sometimes, we try to look at the big picture, and even that is biased because we see it through the lens of our experiences. No one could ever really see our world for what it is, because everyone has their own bias, no matter how much they try not to. And even if someone from another planet were to see it, they would have their own bias. Only a celestial type of being would be able to see it for what it was, maybe. And even then, it'd have to be a celestial being that we couldn't comprehend, one that has no body, or thought, or personality, only raw life force and the ability to gather facts.
Strange thoughts. Whats your take on it??

Death and Life and Loneliness

In March, or was it April, over Spring Break, I went to stay with my Tia y Tio in Victoria for a couple of days. While I was there, they got a phone call saying that their son had died in a car crash. They hadn't seen him in a long time, and he had some problems, but still, he was their son, and they loved him unconditionally. I saw my aunt's face when she heard, and thats one of those things that I will never forget, that look of complete pain and sorrow. She looked like the sun would never shine again, and it shook me all the way through. I stayed at a friend's place that night, and then came home the next day, but it stuck with me these four months. And then today, I found out that their son's, my cousin's, girlfriend had died in a car crash a couple of days ago. The same cause of death, only four months apart, and people who had been dating. What are the odds?? And it makes me think, what if her death wasn't accidental? What if she was just so emotionally shattered by his death that she caused her own? I guess we'll never know.
I never even met her, but I still feel sad for her, for a life ended too soon, for her friends and her family, just like I felt bad when my cousin died. I hadn't seen him since I was a toddler, I don't even remember his face. I just remember the way he smelled, and the doll he gave me, and his black runners. I remember sitting on the arm of the old brown sofa in our house that we lived in then, holding my new doll and looking up at him and his girlfriend of that time. I remember that she was blond and wore a jean jacket. I still have the doll they gave me. It's funny, the things you remember.
I find myself talking to dead people sometimes. Not like having a conversation with them, not like a psychic, but more like just chatting, in case they can hear me, when I'm walking to the bus stop, or cleaning the bathroom, or washing the dishes. I talk about what I know about them. I talk about their families sometimes, whats going on, in case they can't see it for themselves. It makes me feel better, I guess, the knowledge that maybe I'm making them feel better.
The last three and a half years, so many people I know have died. There was one week, a couple of January's ago, when a whole bunch of people I knew died; a man named Ken Moore, who I'd known since I was a toddler, my friend's Grandma, the Nan of the guy who sat next to me in school, even my pet hamster died that week. It really shook me. I was only twelve, and it was like the entire world was slowly dying off. Every morning for the next couple of weeks I woke up and wondered if anyone I knew had died overnight. It's not a good way to live. It makes you sad, and scared, and lonely. You separate yourself from people, in case they die next.
I used to have dreams when I was a little kid, about my mum leaving me alone. It was always the same dream; I was playing on the rocks outside of my sister's school; I was too little to go to school yet. I was wearing my red party dress and my white stockings and my little black mary janes, with my hair down, which I hardly ever did, because it was so long and tangled so easily. I was jumping from boulder to boulder, like I always did. My mum was talking to another adult while I played. I was jumping, and I landed wrong and slipped and cut my knee, ripping my white tights at the same time. I can remember when that actually happened. I got blood all over my tights and had to throw them out. But when I really did that, my mum picked me up and took me into the school and cleaned and bandaged my knee. In the dream, though, she just looked at me, and got on her bike, her old yellow and silver one, and rode away, with my standing there screaming after her. I remember waking up from that dream crying in the dark, and climbing into my sister's bed, because I was too afraid of being left alone. I had that dream again last night, for the first time since I was a little kid, probably for the first time since I started kindergarten. I'd nearly forgotten about it, and then I woke up in the wee hours of the morning, crying in the dark like I did when I was little. But my sister moved out a couple of weeks ago. She's not here anymore. I have to grow up and deal with it myself.

Growing Up

So this is growing up. Making these difficult decisions, making calls that you don't have to make. Doing things for other people, giving up the things that mean the most to you so that other people are happy, even when it means sacrificing your own happiness. Right now, I'm so sad that I feel all raw inside. I've given up something that I've been looking forward to for two years, to save my family stress. A lot of stress, and I feel glad for them, but I'm still selfish enough to be sad for me. I feel like my heart is breaking, and I feel guilty for feeling sad. It feels so self-absorbed of me. I guess that every once and a while, you need to take a little time to be sad, and then you have to suck it up and get on with your life. It's been less than 24 hours since I made that call, and it's still too fresh. I can pretend, but every so often, I need to let it out. Or maybe I don't. I guess I'll just hold it together and pretend that it's all okay. I can do that.