“This world seems to possess more things that shatter than mend.
Before we realize our brokenness, we delude ourselves into thinking we are whole by smearing makeup to cover what we hope others won’t see. We angle the mirror, hide our cracks, turn our flaws away from the blinding flash of the camera that seeks to expose. But deep down, we’re all broken.”
Mark writes with something that draws me in, makes me see myself in a better/worse light, connects with something deep and dangerous and immensely beautiful.
Mark is a loser who helps me find myself better every time I read his words.
(comments closed here as usual, please let Mark know what you think, thank you)
I spent the weekend with a bunch of losers. That sounds rude, I know… but I mean it affectionately – not as a state of being, but as people who have lost. Each of us has lost a child to cancer and we gathered to help each other move forward in our grief. To be honest, I was working. (Hopefully the boss won’t dock my pay because as it turned out, I received more than whatever work I put in.)
As a preface, I need to let you know that I’m broken.
Maybe I should say it like I’m in a group session: Hi, my name is Mark… I’m Broken.
I can’t be fixed, mended or stitched together. I’m broken beyond the saving power of even duct tape. Yes, I’m that far gone.
I am Shattered.
I am Torn… Ripped… Halved… Crocked.
But you know what I discovered? I…
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