The absence of itself.

What a fucking delightful way to welcome the new year.  I spent new years day scanning old photos and 15 days later I am still paying for it with a neck issue that took me to the doctor.  Going in and having a different kind of surgery while your neck hurts was just FUN.

Luckily my sister came down to take care of me because I wasn’t too sure how well I would hold up afterward.   It took me two days to remember the details of coming out of surgery. She kept asking me if I remembered this or that…and I would shake my head and try to remember how I even got home.  I was eating soup when I remembered asking the nurse if I missed Reputation dropping.  Of course I did.
Now it’s been a few days and I am home now and it’s quiet in the apartment.

I was thinking about changes and how certain people change you in a way that you can’t explain.  They leave you intact, but they changed something.  Like a Tupperware bowl after you put spaghetti in it.  That lingering stain that doesn’t ruin the container, it just makes it different.
I’ve been stained by spaghetti.  I’m sure we all have that orange line on us somewhere.  Maybe you haven’t been, should I consider you lucky or unfortunate? I think I would go with unfortunate, but sometimes I feel like the people who have never been hurt are the innocent that we need to protect from that hurt.  Unfortunate because they don’t know the strength it took to overcome it.  *shrug*

I have scrubbed the container clean and put new things in there, but it’s still there.  I have picked at that line and the slippery feeling below it and it never changed.  It is determined to remain there as a admonition.

There is a cautionary tale in that orange lined container.