Just Words

These words as they were are only thoughts. Thin strands in a thick rope. Focused close and tight on the small pieces. Not the whole.

There is more to life than alcohol. More to life than this blog. More than the notions I confess to it.

This space is a microscope through which I examine closely the malignant cells in my makeup. They are not all diseased, but those that are are all that I put under this lens.

Not to seek a cure. I have that already. I only debate when or if ever I will use it.

Not to seek pity. I've never enjoyed being the center of attention. I'm much too shy for that.

The purpose is first and foremost simply to write. To exercise that muscle in my head which breathes only words yet chokes on their endemic silence. To record what I feel now so that later, when I find myself a different person yet again, I might come back to these notes and understand how I got there.

Not as a way to get back to where I've come from. But as a means to insure I'll know better than to ever return again.

They're all just words, though I see something more.