Learning to Love

The brisket I smoked over the weekend was tolerable; disappointing, but tolerable. I should not complain. So, I won’t. How’s that for a surprise?!

As I type this, I’m listening to loud and intensive music. Earbuds, of course; my wife is fast asleep and this stuff would jar her out of her slumbers if I were to play it over the speakers, loud and intense as it deserves to be played.

I feel alone right now, but connected to people who wrote music I hear, music that rips into my soul the way I wish my writing would rip into someone else’s mind. Maybe it does and I don’t yet know it. One day I will.

I think I’m so very close to being able to write what I need to write, but I’m not there quite yet. When I get there, it won’t surprise me, but it might surprise someone. I just don’t know. Who doesn’t know me the way I know myself?

My sister-in-law, a woman I’ve grown to love, gave me an early  birthday gift a few days ago. She bought me beer at a local brewery, after which we went to a tattoo/piercing place. I have talked about getting my ear pierced for a long time and she listened; her birthday present to me was a local brew (liquid courage) and a piercing. We drank the beer and went to the piercing place; they don’t do piercings on Sunday! We’ll go back. I love feeling loved.

The world could change tomorrow. It could become ugly and dangerous and awful. Until then, I’ll love being in it, with people who matter.


About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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