Things change. People change. Life continues morphing into something unreasonable; something a bit too dramatic for my taste. I feel like I should have been given a disclaimer at birth.
Recently, my best friend had a baby. We are talking about my best friend here–who I used to spend five-plus hours with on the phone, talking about hot fictional characters and universal conundrums and the existence of a God who may or may not have made laws that are impossible to follow. We biked for eight miles once just for ice cream from a feed store, and got asked by a creepy old guy if we were orphans.
Sometimes I think I reminisce too much, because I start thinking about the way things used to be and then I start crying. If only I were able to keep all of it alive forever. But relationships change. My best friend is now a mother. It fills me with joy and sadness and wonder. Time has played such strange tricks on me; one minute I feel infinite, the next I wish I could die young. Sometimes I even reminisce about this blog and the lost cause I considered it.
I considered writing about a lot of things when I decided to resurrect it. I thought about telling you why I shut it down in the first place–how I had been fishing for compliments using my soul as bait, and how I realized at some point I had no idea whether I believed in God or people or love anymore. I thought about trying to explain to you how profoundly sad and disillusioned I was for a while, and all the growing up I did over the course of a few months. But–let’s put the negative aside until this wobbling thing is back on it’s feet.
Why have I come back to blogging? Because I believe it is as good a time as any. It still has something to do with conceit, if I’m honest, because I have experiences that I want to share while they are still fresh in my skin. But it has a lot more to do with happiness and connecting to people and trying to navigate my labyrinth of a religion.
The original ironicdaisy was meant as a forum to look for art in the everyday, miracles in the moment, that sort of thing. While in the span of a year my beliefs have been ripped out from a curtain and paraded before me like humbled Oz, and I now see the world with less innocence, I still hold to the practice of finding worth in the worst of existence.
So. There’s that–a return to the heart of what I wanted this to be. Piecing moments together, hoping that they add up to something interesting if not supernatural. Strange reflection on the bits of life that don’t seem to belong with the rest: deep roots, loyal animals, bright fires, newborn babies from old friends. The things that, through the smog and panic dripping off humanity’s surface, seem ironic at best.