I Lost My Voice

Dear you, reading this,

I've been keeping journals for as long as I can remember. In fact, most of my memories are journal entries. I remember the words more than the actual event. The most recent journal is leather bound and I've been writing in it since I was 20. I don't keep up with it as much as I'd like. When I went to Germany, I gave it away. When I came back, it was given back to me. It will outlive this blog. One time I read a few pages to my Grammy. A couple of pages ranted about how drugs were keeping me from my dreams. I remember her asking me "If you know it's hurting you why do you keep doing it?"

I lost my voice and I honestly don't know if it'll heal. I'm confident it will. However; I haven't stopped smoking. I feel my throat ache as the bowl turns black and scorches my throat. It's as if I don't even care. I do though. This is an honest attempt at being genuine. What kind of person wants this kind of pain just to write about it? There's a part of me that's super glad I have something to write about. Lord knows I've tried to put up a blog post for the past two weeks and every time I do, there's no need for me to say anything.

That's important right? Do you feel like some one else has already said what you want to say better than you have? Does this blog annoy you because somehow you're reading it and you know you could do better if you just actually did it? I feel god awful sometimes just because it seems like I come from the least needed people in history. However, you play music and all of that goes away. Suddenly, it doesn't matter if you sound as good as so and so from the radio because you're tapped into a moment you help shape. It's just like sex. There's an incredible feeling you get when you feel loved and all your insecurity melts away. Come to think of it, you can probably get that feeling from a lot of things: Hearing a car purr for the first time after you fix it, making a winning play in some sport, taking the first bite of a new culinary delight you whipped up, seeing yourself in the new outfit you just made. Hell, I bet even salesman get that feeling after closing a big deal. It's the feeling that comes from doing what you like doing well at the highest level you can do it. The problem is you have to be doing what you do well to feel that. You have to be able to do something well to feel that. It's the best feeling in the world and various drugs approximate it really well. Sure actual accomplishment is great but, come on!! I can sit on my patio, smoke weed, and feel like I'm important and free.

Although, Now I've lost my voice. Who knows if it'll heal? If it does, I wonder If I'll be able to hit all the same notes. It's times like these, I'm reminded of a friend. There's an old Jewish woman who lives in Tucson, Arizona who was once a dancer. She won many awards and danced with several handsome partners. The world being what it is, she still had to keep a day job to support herself. One day, while she was operating some heavy machinery, her seat malfunctioned and broke her spine. She was never able to dance after that. When I met her, decades later, her roommate had just gotten her a new TV. I got to watch as her eyes lit up to the smiles of the contestants on Dancing with the Stars. I watched them close when faced with the reality of the couch she knew too well. She told me how she goes to synagogue every day because some prayers, such as those held in mourning, require a certain number of people to perform. I didn't follow her instructions at a pawn shop and she got so mad her voice went hoarse. I haven't spoken to her since I left Tucson but I'll probably tell that story as long as I'm alive. Who needs a voice to be an idol or to dance to be a star? You can always make life better by just being where you are.

As always, Thank you for reading,

J say of the day: I rarely see humiliation inspire humility.