Do You Remember You? (mostly, i have a daughter)

 do you remember you?

i often don't. i'm way back there in the past somewhere; a little boy with a vision of an island on the horizon.

darkness was a fiend and snowfall teleported me to a new world.

i was a poet, though i'd be the critic tearing my writing apart now.

i was an artist and a musician. i was part of a spirit and energy i don't get anymore. except for when i pull my guitar off its dusty stand once a quarter.

i was religious. i loved the sacraments and traditions. i just hate the platform religion has now become.

i was a lover. now i just kinda suck.

i was also not highly skilled at anything and didn't have money. money is nice, even if i'm still not wealthy.

i used to post great stuff like this on Facebook that made everyone cringe or just say "tl;dr..." now i still do, but i care less about the critics.

i'm also just more confident in who i am. maybe even in who we are. like, everyone.

i tend to hermit and not talk with peeps for months. and i'm half ok with that as well. i have this outlet where i can shout.

i used to be melancholic and amazed. i still am.

that must be the path back to who i am. because i think who i remember is really just the individual hoping to one day be me.

i'll never be who i became again. that diversion broke and crumbled in the divorce. but that person who wondered if he could truly pass through worlds by jumping into a pond is alive and here. parts that are important are here. parts that are important are gone.

but that's me - parts that make up a whole.

i'm diverting somewhere else now. i am fine with it. i feel no necessitation toward this initiative as i had previously experienced during my grand endeavors of my youth and early adult years. that's a very, very good thing.

i don't remember me. not fully. i remember bits and sometimes journey nearly to the moment of a gaze or a feeling before it is gone.

i'm ok with that. newness awaits. complication ensures integration. unending mysteries mock me from eons in the distance. i have a daughter.

mostly, i have a daughter.

so, godblessit! i have a life to live and a second soul to feed! a soul in the form of a kid who also may one day find her pensive entanglements to be more important than getting up to get a glass of water in the middle of writing them down on her lonely blog.

will they even have blogs in the future?