My Soul Poured Out Through Words

I put zero weight into anyone’s opinion about me because I know exactly who I am. Can you say the same?

We say to the confused, “Know thyself,” as if knowing yourself were not the fifth and most difficult of human arithmetical operations. We say to the apathetic, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” as if the brute realities of the world did not amuse themselves each day by turning that phrase on its head. We say to the indecisive, “Begin at the beginning,” as if the beginning were the clearly visible point of a loosely wound thread and all we had to do was to keep pulling until we reached the other end, and as if, between the former and the latter, we had held in our hands a smooth, continuous thread with no knots to untie, no snarls to untangle, a complete impossibility in the life of a skein, or indeed, if we may be permitted one more stock phrase, in the skein of life.

You think it will never happen to you, that it cannot happen to you, that you are the only person in the world to whom none of these things will ever happen, and then, one by one, they all begin to happen to you, in the same way they happen to everyone else.

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible. Because one day, I might get hit by a bus. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands. But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate. And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care. We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans. We never know when the bus is coming.

Do you know the uncomfortable feeling when you meet that person who’s about to mess up your life? It’s kind of funny and not everyone would believe it actually exists but I had it when I first met him. I love pasta so much and it was lunch but at that moment, I couldn’t eat. I ended up trying to stuff the food all in because it would be rude not to but that uneasy feeling inside me didn’t give me a rest. I never told anybody that, even to him. Well, truth be told, he did mess up my life. I was fine alone. A routine that I try not to miss, classes that can actually classify me as a nerd and poems I write about the love that hasn’t come to exist. I had friends. Just enough so I could hang out with people when I want to and have plenty of alone time. It was kind of lonely but I was fine. I didn’t look at him as someone I would fall in love with. I mean, he’s cute but he slouches even while walking. He doesn’t dress that well. I never had a “type” but I was pretty sure it wasn’t someone like him. He doesn’t talk to me a lot and maybe if it weren’t for my roommate, he wouldn’t know I exist. He loves these video games I kind of know because I have a couple of brothers who love them. I think I’m kind of all-over-the-place while he was this straight-laced boy. It wasn’t a likely combination. But I used the word “mess” twice and I think by now it’s pretty clear why I did. I never thought of kissing someone at 16. But you know, life hits you when you least expect it. And that was him. He made me do things I thought I would never do. He also made me cry a lot but damn, that boy made so mad in love that it felt like I was possessed. I think Cupid really was there and that arrow he shot right through me, it made me jump off a cliff even though I don’t have wings. It was a mess. It was pretty, yes, it was. And like all things pretty, it had to hurt. Nevertheless, I love every inch of it. Even the parts I used to hate. Even the moments I wish that never happened. Even the times when it was pure ugly. I loved every inch of it but it all went away. I don’t know where he is now or what he does or who he is with but I promised myself I would save him in my midnight skies. And I did. We are a star now. Dead and faraway but still glowing in the darkest of times. I don’t know if I will get to experience that kind of hit in the face once again. Maybe my heart won’t beat as ferociously as it did for anyone else other than him. I don’t know for sure but I know I will never forget my first love. I hope he doesn’t forget about me.

It’s currently 21:37 and as I sit under the night sky full of shining stars I realise how infinite the universe is and how connected we all are. Someone across the world has looked up to the same moon as I, and wished for the same things. I sit here and wonder how lucky we are, to be made of the same stuff as stars, the stars that shine bright through the darkness. I sit and think, what if you, who is reading this now was made of the same star as I. How, one day we will possibly return to the same format as stars. In this very moment, I realised that I could do anything, be anything. So, I’m wishing on my lucky stars, that you, wherever and whoever you are, you live the life you want and dream of. You find strength, courage and genuine happiness in this beautiful universe. That you live knowing one day you’ll shine bright in the sky and you’ll be someone’s lucky star.

I remember Christian teachers telling me long ago that I must hate a bad man’s actions, but not hate the bad man: or, as they would say, hate the sin but not the sinner. For a long time I used to think this a silly, straw-splitting distinction: how could you hate what a man did and not hate the man? But years later it occurred to me that there was one man to whom I had been doing this all my life—namely myself.  However much I might dislike my own cowardice or conceit or greed, I went on loving myself. There had never been the slightest difficulty about it. In fact the very reason why l hated the things was that I loved the man. Just because I loved myself, I was sorry to find that I was the sort of man who did those things. Consequently, Christianity does not want us to reduce by one atom the hatred we feel for cruelty and treachery. We ought to hate them. Not one word of what we have said about them needs to be unsaid. But it does want us to hate them in the same way in which we hate things in ourselves: being sorry that the man should have done such things, and hoping, if it is anyway possible, that somehow, sometime, somewhere he can be cured and made human again.

Here’s the thing about people with good hearts. They give you excuses when you don’t explain yourself. They accept apologies you don’t give. They see the best in you when you don’t need them to. At your worst, they lift you up, even if it means putting their priorities aside. The word “busy” does not exist in their dictionary. They make time, even when you don’t. And you wonder why they’re the most sensitive people. You wonder why they’re the most caring people. You wonder why they are willing to give so much of themselves with no expectation in return. You wonder why their existence is not so essential to your well-being. It’s because they don’t make you work hard for the attention they give you. They accept the love they think they’ve earned, and you accept the love you think you’re entitled to. Let me tell you something. Fear the day when a good heart gives up on you. Our skies don’t become gray out of nowhere. Our sunshine does not allow the darkness to take over for no reason. A heart does not turn cold unless it’s been treated with coldness for a while.

Be the one who nurtures and builds. Be the one who has an understanding and forgiving heart. Be the one who looks for the best in people. Leave people better than you found them.

Travel

vorfreude

Dear past, thank you for the lessons. Dear future, I am ready.

Are you interested in anybody at the moment?

shake it down now