Makes Sense
Makes Sense

Makes Sense

I was just sitting with my wife looking at my Twitter feed.  I looked at her beautiful face and exclaimed, “this is crazy.”

She said, “what?”

I said, “THIS!  And the reason it is crazy is because it makes all the sense in the world.  Ever since I made my mom watch ‘Boyz In The Hood’ and ‘Menace to Society” with me in 8th/9th grade, I knew it would come to this.  It all makes sense.  And that is crazy.”

Katie, my wife, smiled.

That got me thinking.  I posted “Kej” the other day, a fairly recent journal entry that I felt pertained to this current situation.  So, I pulled out my archives.

You see, I save written documents that I feel are pertinent to significant moments in history.  For example, I have every issue of the Cincinnati Enquirer from September 11th, 2001 to September 11th, 2002.  I like to look at how the narrative changed.  Before our eyes.  From terrorism and a nation unified – to war and special interests.  It’s quite interesting.

I also have every single thing I have ever written.  From my Garfield diary (written around four years after the picture above was taken) to my current blog – and everything in between.  After speaking with Katie just moments ago, I decided to dig out some of the old journals and see what I could fine.  More specifically, to see if there were any answers in my adolescent brain that I had forgotten.  To see if this really all DID make sense, or if I was just desperately trying to MAKE sense of it all since it is so surreal.

Well, I pulled out my very first, official book of poetry that I dubbed, in 1994, “The Demented Mind of Mike Moroski.”  Odd title, but I suppose I was trying to be Kurt Cobain or Eddie Vedder.  Who knows.

Anyway – the note on the front page is from my then-girlfriend, Abby.  She writes:

“You can keep your dreams, feelings & your thoughts in it.  So, this book is basically you when you decide to let them out & express them on paper.  I thought you could use it since you write so much.”

(Thanks, Abby.  I hope you and Eugene are well.)

The second entry in this poetry journal is entitled, “Why? (we go for the impossible).”  It was written on July 10th, 1994.  I was 16 years old.

It goes like this:

“We go for what we want, and lose it,

We got what we got, and we flaunt it,

Why is it we’re never happy, unless

we have the impossible, is it possible?

Can’t we thank the Lord for what

we got, not cry for a lot?

We go for what we will never get.

Our expectations we never met,

Can’t we be thankful for what’s left?

We are gonna lose it.

Why, we go for the impossible

Is it possible, we will ever be happy?

Are we ever gonna stop?

Realize we’re at the top?

Be thankful for what we got?

It’ll never come,

We just need some


We people are never satisfied,

The Lord has heard the way we cried,

He tells us, “Be happy, you got love!”

We all got love, do we really need more?

Open the door, for new opportunities,

You will see, if God wants you

to have it, you will get it,

if He doesn’t the sign will read

“GET BACK.”  So leave it, move on,

Go on,

Be Happy,

Use what ya’ got,

Rise to the Top,

God will meet you there.

Then you will have it ALL.”

Not exactly Ginsberg or Shakespeare, but made sense to me.  Helped me make sense of how much this makes sense.

Make sense?

To close, I would like to end with a series of questions I pose in my Garfield diary that I kept when I 10 years old.  I am still looking for answers to these questions.  And that’s what this is all about – what life is all about – searching for answers to questions.  A life well-lived poses more questions and leaves the answers for those who have stopped growing, learning and living.

Every entry I wrote as a 10 year old ended with a question.  I would think about the question as I fell asleep.

Here are some questions my 10 year old self would like to leave you with tonight as you fall asleep:

“Why do cats purr?”

“Can a blind person dream?”

“Why do people have to die?”

“How did God get made?”

“Why is the world round?”

“Why did bad words get invented?”

“Where is Heaven?”

“Why do we have war?”

“How do birds know how to build a nest?”

“What does ‘taxed’ mean?”

“Why do I talk in class?”

“Why were States made?”

“How can you move your body parts?”

“How do games work?”

“How did dinosaurs die?”

“How do I think?”

“How do I move?”

“What will we do tomorrow?”

“Why am I me?”

Thank you all for helping me to answer that last question. I think I will sleep better not having to think about that one as much as I did when I was 10 years old.


  1. Peggy

    Your posting brought a smile to my face for the first time in almost a week. It sure felt good. Things were so much simpler when we were kids. The things that kept us awake then were so much more innocent than now. Instead of what makes your body move becomes how will I pay my mortgage tomorrow or in my case is the Catholic Church where I should be. I have to wonder if god would like to send down a revision to the Bible? Because “love one another as you would love me” isn’t working as well as it should. I always tried to teach my kids to give the same love and respect to others as you would want for yourself. So far they seem do be doing an ok job, I think.
    So that brings me back to what’s keeping me up at night now. Can I stay with a church that has lost the golden rule of loving one another as you would live me. We all deserve love and to love who we love. It shouldn’t have to be behind closed doors or you should not be made to feel shame because of it.
    I have not had any respect for the Archdiocese of Cincinnati since they tried to sweep the scandal of preiests raping defenseless children under the rug. I love the tradition of the Catholic Church, but is that enough to keep me there when I disagree in so many other areas. After reading your post I thought I would pose this question to you. Meg always said you gave her the best advice. Thanks. And have a happy valentines day. Celebrate LOVE. Of all kinds.

  2. MikeM

    i wish i had an answer:)! the way i see it – to affect the change we desire we cannot give up on the people or institutions we love. that kinda love is exhausting, especially, as you put it, when it does not seem to be reciprocated. that said, i love nonetheless! peace to you – enjoy valentine’s day!

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