paper cranes

Posted: December 5, 2010 in proselytizaytion
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Addiction is a strange thing. Maybe the mentality is always there like any other “brain disease.” I don’t really care one way or another. There are plenty of assholes trying to pound that one out for recognition and fame. I care about living. I’ve found that once it’s been acknowledged, it never really goes away.

I used to know dozens of constellations sparkling in our sky. I went to “college” for it during the interim between fourth and fifth grade. I’ve tried for years to unlearn the charts delineating patterns to the northern hemisphere’s view. When I look up now…

I’m sixty days short of one thousand days sober.

When I was a little girl I spent a great deal of time alone…in my head. I caught bugs and played in the mud and entertained myself rather successfully without TV and video games or the friends I was supposed to have that liked these other things. Inside, I would build things and draw, put together countless puzzles and fold paper. I did “homework” over my summers and they knew my family well at the local library.

Before my third grade teacher soured me on the educational system…and people in general…someone read me the story about Sadako Sasaki. The legend of the thousand paper cranes is much older, but this was the story I heard. Afterward, I started to fold flapping birds, not knowing the difference between them and cranes at the time. I think…I was seeking to find hope where the little girl in the story had none. I, of course, failed.

I eventually gave up, put all the little birds aside and carried on with life. I kept the birds without adding to them for years, and it was only after my fiance went to prison that I remembered them…but couldn’t find them.

I cut his letters. I didn’t save any of them beyond fragments folded into wings. It took me years to let go without forgetting. It never really goes away. It won’t be gone in 60 days, and even though I started folding the birds again to distance myself from drowning, I don’t need to wish on birds.

Still, I can’t help feeling like I’m going to miss them. When I look up into the night sky, I see beyond arbitrary constellations where the darkness is not dismal or foreboding anymore. This is not allegorical. When I look up now…I see the ceiling.


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