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A Beautiful Day

When the day is really hard,

When you don’t really know what you’re doing,

When it feels like everything you try falls apart,

Look out the window.

Listen to the wind blow.

Notice where the sun shines.

No sun?

Watch the clouds,

They always have something nice to say.

Watch the river,

You know it doesn’t have problems moving on.

Maybe you do,

Maybe that’s ok.

But when the day is hard,

It’s still a day.

You’re still going to get through it.

You’re still doing great.

Hear the wind blow.

It’s louder than any problem you’ll ever know.

People To Remember

Lunch With A Friend

Had lunch with someone close today. Afterwards, we found a nice mossy spot by a small lake. It was beautiful and green. A new family of geese searched for food nearby. A red squirrel tittered to it’s friends and seemed to be getting an early start on collecting acorns from a nearby oak. The water was still. A maple across the lake had the slightest hint of orange. The refection of the treeline in the water shimmered peacefully with the gentle breeze blowing across the surface.

As we sat, we spoke of a lot of things. Life mostly. Things in it and around it. Things we have right now. Things that are going to change soon. Big life. Small life.

As we spoke, I came to a realization. About a lot of things, but one thing in particular really sticks out.

So many of us go through life thinking that the purpose is to find someone to come with us on our journey. No one considers the people who taught us what to do or how to feel when we find them.

Love has always been a huge theme in my life. From unrequited, unrealized, unwanted, and needed but never really there. Family, friends, strangers. But never for very long.

I thought to myself, and my friend, maybe I’m not one of those people who gets someone to come on these crazy adventures I get myself into. Maybe that’s ok.

I’ve had the opportunity for so much love. So much true love.

I believe every love is true love, even if it’s not forever, it’s necessary to help one learn.

Maybe all these crazy adventures lead me around to find these loves. To love them. To teach them. To have these crazy moments and then continue on my way.

It sounds tragic, and maybe it is a little, but someone has to be the person who’s ok with teaching love. So many of us seem to have forgotten what it means to be loved; forgotten what it’s like to love. I mean, really love someone. With everything you have in you in that moment. Even if it’s just for a moment.

In all my sporadic movement; my impulsive life; my sudden leaps, I can’t expect anyone to be willing to follow me into the next, usually dark, moment. No. It’s better if we have the beautiful, wonderful minute, leave it at that, and they can go and find their true love. Live their real dreams, without a windswept romantic stirring their control up every chance I get.

So, I hope to find more love in my life. I’m sure that I will. I find new, amazing, glorious people every day.

I hope they learn to love. Me and then the world.

After all,

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return.”

Promted

They Never Mean To Be This Way

A human pest,

The one’s so desperate for attention,

You feel desperate yourself when they’re around.

When they make you feel unsure of yourself.

You never wanted to be the person that didn’t reply,

But they text you 13 times,

In an hour.

They always sit so close,

Even though you’ve mentioned your personal space,

A hundred times,

A hundred and one would be too much.

You never wanted to push someone away on purpose,

But here you are, wanting to push them away.

On purpose.

It’s too much energy to worry about their happiness when you only want to worry about your own.

Happiness.

I hope one day they find a friend.

Not me,

Someone better.

More patient.

More understanding.

More like them.

I hope one day, I find a friend.

via Daily Prompt: Pest

Talking to Myself

Inspiration Comes and Goes

Inspiration flows.

It’s there in the most inconvenient of moments.

When you’re driving your car in silence, down a green highway, a brilliant thought is there and gone with the whoosh of a passing car by the time you pull over and grab a notebook.

When you’re in the shower, in the middle of winter, and there’s just no way you’re getting out. Because it’s the first shower you’ve had in days. Because the bathroom floor is cold and wet. Because the depression got you and you gotta take care of yourself eventually.

When you’re in your doctors office, waiting for them to see you now. They’d think you really were crazy if they came into the room at the exact moment you were scribbling down the idea for a tragedy they’d never deem healthy.

When you’re watching the most beautiful thunder storm in your life, but you’re huddled under a porch, and you forgot your notebook.

When you’re sitting in your room late at night, with only lights on strings and furry things. When you know you should sleep.

Finally, a bit of inspiration. Might as well grab it.

Might as well be inspired by all the fleeting thoughts, even if you’ll never have them again. Might as well remember the feeling of having those thoughts every once in a while.

Inspiration comes from a lot of places. Sometimes, in the worst moments. Sometimes you just have to take them.

Reminder to me: write it down.

Even if it’s ridiculous. At least it’s something.

I remember all those years when the words flowed freely. When I wrote more than I spoke. Where did those days go?

Now I have to learn how to grab those moments again.

Learn to grab those moments again.

Inspiration is special. Creativity is important.

Don’t let the world around you stamp out your love to create. The passion inside you shouldn’t be put out.

This is me. Grabbing a tiny bit of inspiration.

Uncategorized

Night thoughts

We did this together. You’re most of what I can remember. 

Our love was beautifully terrible. Destructive.

But we found ourselves. 

Or at least, I found myself. 

You seem lost these days but I won’t speak for you. 

From all that we destroyed in each other, we created something beautiful. I’m glad it was you. Sometimes I hate you, but I’m glad. It couldn’t have been anyone else. 

I still keep a picture of us in my wallet. I still see your face in my dreams.

I don’t want you anymore but I’m not going to pretend that you don’t mean anything. 

I want you all the time. But I don’t really know what I want. 

I don’t really know where you are.

But you’re right there. 

And you live this new life and I’m not in it. 

But I’m right here. 

No matter how much you don’t want me to be. I’m right here. 

Our lives are intertwined. 

I wish they weren’t. 

I’m glad they are. 

A hopeless contradiction of love and hate. 

The state

Of us. 

Uncategorized

When your true love is something you’ve always had and can never have again

I don’t remember much before him.

When I saw him my world changed.

It was always everything. We both knew it. Immediately, our lives intertwined.

I was so young. 13 is a delicate age.

When we met, he was blue and I was trying to be one of them.

A year passes, he wants something else. That’s ok. We were young. But I was devastated. My world rocked. I had to leave.

“I’m going to slit your throat, drain your blood, put it in a bottle and send it to your mother so she can she what a mess you’ve become.” -Him

14 is a delicate age. Alone again. No family. Only broken memories and a whirlwind of courtrooms and foster homes. Trying to be accepted in a whole new world.

An apology. Someone reaching out. Someone asking me for help when I thought I had nothing. All they wanted was me, right?

So I promised I’d be there.

Risks were high. A weekend home on a train to nowhere right, but he was there. Along the way.

“I’ll meet you there. Just get off the train.” -Him

I never got off the train. I was scared. I thought I had family. Maybe I could go out and visit him the right way.

I missed my train.

Years pass. Life happens.

17 is a delicate age. Living with a man, really trying to be a whole person. Still alone in a world gone wrong. Family in distant intimate spaces.

A way out.

“Pack your things, I’ll come and get you.” -Him

My knight in shining armor, here at last. This was it. We were going to be together forever. Everything was perfect.

Chaos. Manic. Love.

We were together. Beauty came. A perfect; amazing; beautiful child. Words could never express how happy I was that he was ok and that he was ours.

That he is ours.

Then there was us. The baby and I. Our son, and growing is hard.

And he worked so hard.

But I worked so hard.

And we didn’t see each other working so hard. And we were alone. There were people who didn’t want us to be together;

Who were alone;

Who were scared of being alone.

Depression.

I left. I shouldn’t have left.

I left.

Then he came back.

Then he left.

Then he came back.

Goddammit. Life. I always wanted it to work.

We had this beautiful dream. Of going to hell and back. Of adventure and chaos. Everything would be ok..

But he was never really there.

And I still stumble around in all this “adventure and choas” that I thought we would be in together. All of us. Our perfect son experiencing the glory of the dreams we had.

“Stop calling us family.” -Him

I am alone.

He lives his dreams and I live mine.

I hope things will be ok someday.

Uncategorized

A Chosen End

6 Friends. 

6 friends and Robin Williams. 

You’d think it might get easier, but it doesn’t. You just understand it more. 

So, I’ll write your name on my heart and put another tic on the chart of life. 

6. It seems like a lot. 

I’d ask why, but I get it. 

Because every day is hard. Sometimes your so deep in your hole, you can’t see the sky, and the walls crumble beneath your fingers and feet everytime you think you’ve found a good grip to hold on, and you and your whole world come crashing back down to the bottom. 

Sometimes the world is a dark place. Full of war and terror and dying children, alone and hungry with no memory of real life or real love. 

Sometimes it seems like everything is going wrong and you can’t get ahead. 24 years playing the game of life, how did I end up here? Or there? Or alone? Or surrounded by all these shitty people?

Why don’t I love the things I used to love? What am I supposed to do with my life? Where am I going? What’s the next step? What is the fucking point? 

Everytime I carve another notch in the bedpost of friends lost, I get to close to not being able to see the light. 

Remembering that living the adventure, feeling the pain, see the shit, loving the unloved. Remember, that is the point. 

The point of this plane is to love and feel pain. Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon. Don’t leave the us behind so quickly.