every situation in life is one that I need, is an opportunity to grow, to become better than I was the day before. I will not be sad or angry, will not feel ashamed or resentful,
and most importantly I will not wish for things to be different.
instead I will be grateful for now, for this moment that lets me realize that I am better off. this moment that lets me be grateful to be rid of and far away from the only source of negativity in my life.
sitting here in silence, it is crazy to think the type of emotions and physiological responses that words can elicit. in reading that hatred, that spite, I took them into myself in that moment. I could feel their texture, could feel the malignancy within them. but now, with eyes that are watching the gray of the lake, I feel far away already. I feel a distance from those words because I know they are meant to hurt, and they will only succeed in hurting me if I allow them.
… I can also accept this completely and totally, ugliness and all. right now things will not change, and in this moment it is okay to feel a little sad and a little relieved. it is a mess but it is over, and most importantly it is not a mess that I need to clean up.
(July 29th, 8pm or so)
Sometimes I think I’ll be swallowed up by the beauty of the sunset, and then wake up in a different world. The sun was a strawberry gem sliding through the sky, falling lazy. It fell beneath the edge of the continent, it fell to another pair of eyes as it drifted out of mine, drowning in pastel incandescence. In the aftermath it feels like everything around me is humming, invisible and still. The simplest of molecules becomes magic, where tree branches become prophets and clouds like dolphins can swiftly swim. The waves are kissing galaxies, a sparkle in the sand a microcosm.. By my heartbeat I am a part of the wonder.
Under the feathered shadow gray, we remain
nourished not my meals but by the warmth of one another.
The twilight deepening carries a song of hidden luminesence,
the slow melodic footsteps of another world’s sunrise.
Like a painting in constant motion we will continue
casting transient colors with disregard to the outcome.
Molten rivers gold glow softly, the veins of
our mountainous cerulean landscape.
Sailboats swim the shimmering channels,
carrying visiting galaxies, fallen comets, and
replenishing us our stardust.
Hope hides in petulance and returns
to sing a honey lullaby, curling up in our beds to pass the night…
Let us not forget, we are children of the rainbow nebulae
burning vivid and silent. Our bright
will stretch to light the eyes of strangers, laying on the
grass looking to the endless sky ocean and feeling small.
The grass blanket born from the soil that was fed by our crumbled home
cradling spines of those who
wonder and whisper, “Why?”
that this life will swallow us whole.like a quiet tempest as we’re sleeping,it’ll pour under the crack of our front door and take us all unconcious down it’s dark gullet.but humans brave storms far worse than this all the time,without thought without regard to the wonder of their survival.I’m just sitting here trying to figure out how the hell they all do it.people with far less than we are blessed with have braved far worse situations,and with much more grace.
but jesus who am I to say that we could be doing better?who am I to say that things are at their worst?brown skinned angels of island tongues have swooped in,reminding us that with laughter comes light,and that to hold each others hands is to heal..