gift box of curses.

today I found myself knee deep in recurrant thought. I accomplished absolutely nothing today, besides pummeling my psyche into submission with notions that only led me awry over and over again. the best thing to do when you can't stop thinking is savor the thought with some nice outdoor alone time, I "borrowed" jakes longboard and essentially just rode around town for an hour or two... trying to get the machine that is my head up and running again. oiling gears. priming pumps. I come home from doing whatever it is that I do for the first time in 3 days. I go upstairs. I take off my clothes and lay in bed. I realize after a minute that my legs are on top of a rectangular cardboard box. I open the box. in it, are a few hundred or so papers. flyers. newspaper articles. ribbons. report cards. pamphlets. brochures. certificates. police citations. essentially, an official outline of my life, permanently documented in sequential order from my baptism in 1989 til my last official etch in history... high school graduation. but the key element in this time machine package is the photograph I'm looking at right now. of my 6th grade class at sierra vista elementary school. the faces are all smiling. the innocence still apparent. these are people seldom thought of. I see 6 meth addicts, 5 mothers, 4 people who are no longer living, a nun, a girl with aids, and the rest are uninteresting losers such as myself. there isn't one person in this picture who is a veritable success in normal society. we were really just built up to only be torn down. kind of sets you back at square one... because although I speak to literally none of these faces, I know that if I were to show this same picture to any of them, they'd feel the exact sentiment as me. and it would make their heart ache and yearn because of the bliss. I guess you can only look back at your past and what you once were and what the world once was and smile. say cheers, raise the glass tall, and carry on.