a blast from the past

I just rediscovered a collection of things I'd written during a dark, hard, strange time of my life. They were driven by a need for catharsis; by getting some of the feelings out, it helped compartmentalize them, make them a little less immediate and give me a little more distance from them, which helped me work through them. Some of them were extremely melodramatic and over the top [okay, many of them], but I still like some of them. Something about the flow of the words, the rhythm, the beat appeals to me, even after all this time.

One of my favorites is this two-line bit from a longer outpouring; it has a rhythm and a beat that I still love today:

"haunted, taunted, tortured by
ghosts of trusting past"

I miss writing. I miss playing with words, trying to find the right rhythm or rhyme or feeling or method of expression. I used to write a lot, just for me...it's funny to go back through some of them now and see what I like and what makes me cringe, and to see what I would change and tweak and shuffle and update. Stacey's psyche, remixed and updated. The revised edition, new and improved.

But then I just let go and let the words stand as a testament to where I was at the time. Good, bad, melodramatic, injured, scarred, surviving, rebuilding...all me, all part of who I am today. And I'm pretty okay with who I am...