I can't seem to throw away this notion that there is inherent good in others, despite how they act and how far they will go to make you believe that they are something that they aren't.
I can't seem to throw away the things and people that no longer serve any purpose in my life except to keep me exactly where I am.

I can't seem to throw away my hope that we, as a species, are evolved, despite being animals with shoes.
I can't seem to throw away the image burned in my mind of what constitutes a beautiful relationship, despite the outside sources (and my own logic) that contradict such a glorious sight.
I can't seem to throw away the voice mail on my phone that I listen to from time to time, even though the light in the voice is gone.

I'm just full of garbage.

One of the few memories that stick out in my mind is Hurricane Bob, which hit the east coast long enough ago to feel like it was from another life. I remember my psychotic, actress grandmother instilling the fear of death in me, with all sorts of talk of our little house being blown away and the like. I wanted to hide in the basement until it was over, but my father was very unhappy with this idea. I can't remember why. I remember the wind outside being very loud and seeing the trees bend in ways that were defiant of physics. The sky was an eerie sight to behold; a thick blanket of textured clouds, different shades of gray and black, and moving very, very fast. I was terrified, and too intrigued to look away. That was my first encounter with natural destruction. I still see those clouds in my dreams, when life goes through it's natural processes of destruction and my subconscious is feeling stormy.