19:43 - Aug. 30, 2005
living wears you out
playing violin makes me thirsty. it also gives me funny red marks and a sore neck and back. but somehow i always go back to it; it's still my baby.
and i'm tired. funny how tired you get from just going through the day, living. funny how living wears you out.
i look into old people's eyes all day, and my voice has turned carmel-smooth from singing to them. sometimes their eyes are milky blue, fuzzy brown. sometimes bright as autumn skies, and sometimes hidden in wrinkles or in a totally seperate time and place. they talk to me about what they've done and the people they love, and sometimes what life will be like on the other side. they sing with worn-out voices and i hold their weathered, veiny hands. these people have lived, and they're worn. but they aren't worn out and the live that moves in them is the same that moves in each one of us and it's always there until we take our last breath.
i watched a man take his last breath and it took my breath away, to see what once was a man suddenly just a body. and i walked away dumb and stupidly blessed for every.single.moment of this life. just because it happened; just because i am.
