Oh my Momma told me there'll be days like this.

"When everyone is upfront

and they're not playing tricks.
When you don't have no freeloaders

out to get their kicks.

When it's nobody's business
the way that you wanna live.

I just have to remember

there'll be days like this."

I didn't sleep last night. By the time my head finally hit the covers, dawn was just beginning to break and light was shining through my bedroom window. I couldn't stop crocheting, even though my swollen, achey fingers were protesting and I must have unraveled more than I actually finished, I needed to be distracted. Desperately.

No matter how much I rage against the passage of time, it doesn't help. People die, people leave, things change. No amount of crocheted necklaces and cowls and food and creatures can stop that; their creation is just masking the the hours that are slipping past in something cute and fluffy.. and tangible. Maybe I just need something to hold on to.

People keep trying to tell me that nothing really ends, things just change, people adapt, that's life and it's going to be okay. Well guess what? That's not my life. People need to stop leaving. It's getting rediculous already. I don't want to adapt. I don't want to be left behind anymore. And it's certainly not "okay." I know I sound like a petulant child, but don't you think it's high time someone whined a little? We all just go along with decisions we hate and changes we didn't sign up for as if it's supposed to be this way, as if the "adult" thing to do is to become life's doormat and society was meant to be made up of a bunch of emotional martyrs. Life never has to be lived on anyone elses terms, no matter how much you love them or how many times you're told it's not allright to be a little selfish.

I'm going to stop fighting time, it can prattle on as it likes, and find something real to sink my teeth into, something that will have some impact. And I'm going to keep crocheting until my fingers are calloused and bleeding, until I run out of band aids, until every idea I have is utterly and completely spent, until there's no yarn left and my floor is covered in scraps. I'm going to keep crocheting until things change - into what I want them to be.