Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Just One More Speech, Humor Me

I haven't wrote to you in blood for a while. I can't say whether or not you've missed me. But I hope maybe you have just a little.
So I'll cut straight to the point, save you the boring introduction to my speech. Ah yes, another speech about pain. Now I've said it before but I'll remind you again; I punch these little letters in and they string a sentence along for me. Maybe for you too in a roundabout way, but I write to remind my dear naive self, not to preach.
Some cuts never heal. They just don't. Oh they scar up and grow over with proud flesh but they're still there. They're not so jagged or raw and when you bump them it doesn't sting so bad anymore.
Some folks don't get cut so gnarly and they heal quicker. So this is really only for the wretched souls like me that feel everything twice and way too deep.
Yeah sure I knew better a lot of times but it doesn't change what happened or who I was. And I guess if I could change it I never would.
Lies don't ever become the truth and honesty is a rare and treasured thing. In the end you'll only have your story so choose wisely the characters that will get to hold a pen. Remember that some of the greatest stories were written in sloppy handwriting with water marks on the page.
Life is just life. There's ups and there's downs. Your finest moments will be weaved into the same rug as your worst.
You're going to have panic attacks and temper tantrums, sleepless nights and restless days. You're going to be hard up and let go. You'll be bogged down and rained out.
But there's something beautiful in pain. You know, the earth shattering, mind numbing kind. Where you find that your breaking point is really no breaking point at all. It's simply a line that you drew in the dirt, one that meant 'I'll be tough'. And you'll blow through it. Not just subtly step across either, no, you'll leave that line a couple hundred miles behind with a little hurricane in your wake.
You'll still be sucking wind, even if it is out of a crumpled, brown paper sack. You'll keep seeing, even if it is foggy and bleary eyed. You'll forever be tougher than the blue on your skin and the crimson drops dripping from your palm. Tougher than the goodbye and tougher than the betrayal yet to come.
I guess I'm just here saying that it ain't easy. And I understand if you're scared. Lord knows I'm scared. But you're gonna make it. You're gonna be okay. You're not a lost cause and you're gonna make it.

XoXo, Gussie


  1. I wondered how such a young girl could have experienced enough to weave such wise & weary pages as you do, then I realized... you must be an Old Soul.