Letting Go

After years of skipping all the WWI era songs on my MP3 player, I simply deleted them. I have them on my computer if I ever really want to hear them but odds are I won’t.

I feel like the memories are losing their sting at last. Maybe I’ll feel it again but I’m in no hurry. Life has changed. I feel alive for once and I’m thankful for it. Life feels less like a prison now as the memories of that far-off time become less and less a feature of my existence.

Maybe one day I’ll still go to Flanders and make one last gesture of farewell. But I can’t put my life on hold for that. I am not John William Harris. Maybe some part of me once was but it’s all just memories and habits.

I’m forging a life now. Hopefully the kind of life Jack could only have dreamed of. I have mountains, forests, and miles upon miles of rivers and oceans to weave a new tapestry of memories. Good memories.

And one day, hopefully when I am very old, I will be buried here in Oregon. And there will be no sobbing over that grave from my future self over a life squandered, only the gentle songs of scrub jays.

Always A Bit Weird

Always a bit worrying when I see a spike in views on a blog that is now half-extinct.

A couple days ago there were 66 views on my blog, almost all of them from the UK.

I immediately wonder, who’s there and why? And what the brief but intense spike in activity actually meant?

Part of the reason I’ve kept this blog going is because this corner of the Internet is quiet. But I know how easy it is to attract too much of the wrong kind of attention. At any rate my need to talk about these things is not so great that I’d press on any further if I were becoming some kind of side show. I said pretty much all I needed to say about the topics involved and the event I wanted to get closure with never materialized, so it’s no big loss to me if I have to call it done. I guess I’m only keeping this alive out of some hope that I will get to Flanders after all.