Disgusted

The idea that I can’t write anything about my cousin, who passed away, is revolting. I thought I had a lot to say but the fact is I don’t. I was rudely awakened that I have already forgotten who she was when we were kids. It’s disgusting that I can write about almost anything under the sun but not my own blood-relative and first cousin. I am opinionated, which is a trait that I persistently brandish and wave around the faces of my friends and yet here I am – at a complete loss. I would normally be someone who blurts out what he thinks and have the audacity to impose myself on others. But this… it’s not proper, moreover, it is disturbing and, did I already say disgusting and revolting? My stomach churns at the idea and the reality that I was only able to write a mere four paragraphs compared to my five-pages-long articles. I am now apologetic and regretful, of all people, I hadn’t interviewed my cousin. I was too busy with other things that I overlooked the important blessings I had.

We know the value of things that we want to have, and once we have it and clasped within our hands – we lose sight of it. Then when it’s gone, that’s the only time that we realize its true value which we failed to appreciate.

I’m sorry but I promise to remember, before the month ends.

Playing, “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now” by Celine Dion. I do hope that this helps.