2009
10.31

in some cases, there are not even words.. no poems to cheer a person up, no words you can say to make the hurt disappear, no songs you can sing to make a friend relax…
sometimes, all we have is a deafening silence reminding us of how far we are from each other, and how inadequate we are.. how small we are.. how hopelessly lost we are to forces beyond our control…

sometimes, all you can give is love, and sometimes love doesn’t help…
sometimes, love is just not enough

there are no poems for how lost I am feeling.. for how helpless I’m feeling when I can’t do what I am meant to do.. when I cannot protect those who I love, in the only way my paws know how to; with sharp claw…
blood looks very nice on my paws.. they are made for it.. my claws are made for it.. and sometimes, my paws feel too small.

p – there is nothing I can do.. there is nothing I can do.. I’m so useless, I’m not enough.. there is nothing I can do…
o – You are doing what you can, and that is plenty. You are helping in what ways you can, and it is enough. No one can demand more from you.
p – but I’m not doing anything.. there is nothing I can do.. nothing…
o – You are doing what you can. You are there, when they need you. When they call you. They can turn to you.
p – but they get hurt, and I can do nothing to stop it, to protect them, to shield them, to save them…
o – You need that also, sometimes. You can not save people, they can only save themselves. Sometimes, you need to hurt. Sometimes you just need someone to be there when it hurts. To help to support you. To hunt for you. Not for the hurt to go away. And you are there. In all the ways you can be.

***

the leaves on the trees and on the ground has turned from golden yellow to brown.. as if they could turn to dirt while still on the trees to help the worms and insects, make it easier for them..
I haven’t seen an hedgehog in months…

***

on monday, I will hopefully get my books.. two on latin, one on dead languages, one for Kadanina.. (I will also make porridge with one of my Helpers, if she’s not sick. Oh, the lulz.)
if I do get my books, I will escape into the unfeeling patterns of grammar for a bit.. and learn new words.. at least I can do that in a way that makes me feel a bit less hopeless and stupid..
(fun fact, my mind is getting back to even less language barriers then usual even for a Pao, and suggested “honto ni waela murr’pau” as an acceptable and perfectly natural sentence.. it is a mix between japanese and ilythiiri.. :p)

soon, I might be back at writing diary entries in more than three languages, using tengwar.. those were the times

so, I will be reading latin and ilythiiri, while trying to work on pantherin and perhaps another conlanging project.. oh, and perhaps pick up french again, while expanding my vocabulary in english… not only will it hopefully distract me from a black hole of winter depression; it might also actually make my mind feel like it is actually doing something… :p
not to mention the hilarious stuff it might lead to!

honto ni waela murr’pau
marrah imail impossible yimi
lacunae narhile nahndaiao

well, yes… sort that one out, if you dare!
.

/pao 31 oct 99+10 06.47
(edited spelling, and added italics.. I won’t even write these edit-disclaimers any more.. only if I actually edit or remove or add anything of importance…)

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