Limitless Prodigy

“The Block”

“The Puzzled Prince”

“Cumulus Beauty”

“Chiquita Ma Nigga”

Solitude isn’t always pretty. Sometimes it’s just lying in bed and staring at the ceiling listening to the same song over and over again as it slowly loses its meaning. Sometimes it’s how people go mad because they couldn’t tame the darkness that was growing within them over time. Some days it’s a girl waking up without her soul. Some nights it’s a boy falling asleep with his spirit crushed. Sometimes it’s someone wanting to lose themselves to a person, but instead, they push that person away. Solitude only becomes a prison when you do not love yourself. And even if you do love yourself it’s still a very dangerous thing, and the very benefits of it are the stars shining in its purest darkness. Solitude isn’t always pretty but also are the truths that we find within ourselves when we learn to find solace in it.

Don’t let this world poison you. This society that idolizes sociopaths, depression, self harm, and abusive relationships—do not buy into the hype. Empathy is not a crutch, although you may swallow that sweet lie when your bleeding heart has gotten the best of you. Do not harm your body. You only get one per lifetime and scars will always last longer than depression. Addiction takes much more than it gives, and relationships are not made to be permanent, make peace with that. Whether you’re together one month or forty years, love is an eternal feeling without an infant life source. But most importantly, the reality is you’ll be a different person ten years down the road, so why make permanent decisions for an impermanent situation? Why regret the past and waste the future? Why punish the body for the sins of the mind? Remember, you are not a slave to your emotions. Discomfort is good for you, pain brings growth, and regret teaches forgiveness. Do not forget that all life is priceless; however, the value of living is only understood in the face of death. By then it is too late. Do not wait until it is too late.

Once upon a struggle, I stopped looking for the beautiful things in life, because I thought they didn’t exist. But the beauty was always there, sometimes we just get so stressed that we turn our backs to it all. Looking back on it now, I wish someone would have told me to just turn around, ‘cause what I used to see as gray, I now find has color when reflecting from the bay.. because I used to hide underneath this bridge where the water from the creek meets the dirt at land, just to wonder why a meteorite must die, in order for its gold to expand. I look into the soil, then close my eyes to think, when deep inside my stomach, my heart begins to sink. Now I don’t remember taking an Advil, but I feel like I just swallowed one big pill. I think it’s blocking my intestines, and that’s why in my head, I’m feeling stressful tensions. I try to drown my anxieties by sipping on cool water, but oh my god that pill blocks it like a pool, and now I’m getting hotter. Maybe depression isn’t the worst of all the pains, but as my hands begin to tremble, it pulsates through my veins. So with my eyes still shut, I try to find some peace in counting tranquil sheep, but this pool inside my stomach is now over ten feet deep. Now as I start to drown, I reminisce of all the things that led me to this bridge underneath the ground. I wonder if life is carefully planned, thought out intentionally; or if it just happens, uncertain, but grand, without a doubt, coincidentally? Just to think, if plans had fallen together just a little differently, then I’d be vacationing out in Sicily, chasing my dreams, living ambitiously. And that’s when from my shut eyes, I let out a blink, and what a surprise, I started to think. Let’s see, the drain is broken beyond repair. But, do I even care? Because, emotionally, I’m already there. This pool doesn’t have much more room before the water starts to overflow, because in my stomach there isn’t much more room for my problems to go, and so it’s not long before through my veins and up to my heart, my anxieties grow. So, even harder I think, but this time instead of a blink, I all the way open my eyes, cause when they’re no longer shut pondering, is when I realize, that through my mind just wandering, I’ve found something quite wise.. That in order for a star to be created the first place, the gas must expand, just to burst up in space. And just like its birth, its death also includes the evaporation of that gas in order to erase. So maybe a meteorite must burn up in order for its valuable metals to replace because its legacy is too precious to leave behind a trace. Now when I thought this through, I started to wonder, maybe people can be like stars too? And that’s when I climbed from under the bridge, to the top by the ledge, looked to the sky, and let out a sigh, and this here is why.. because, maybe, perhaps, I missed a few gaps, for a star’s light will shine the brightest when in the midst of its’ stunning collapse.

If you don’t feel affected by this man being the president, you don’t have the right to say anything to the ones that do.  The reason is simple: you don’t get it.  To be able to be relaxed when this man is the symbol of America, is to be privileged.  You don’t understand what it feels like to watch as the majority of your country slowly turns red, see the color trickle across the nation minute by minute like blood as millions of people show you how much people like you don’t matter. You don’t understand what it feels like to wonder when you or your loved ones will be forced to leave a place you’ve dared to call home. You don’t understand what it’s like to have to hide parts of yourself in order to potentially save the life America claims you have the right to, or worse, not be able to hide the parts of yourself that put you in constant danger. There are people hurting immensely - people with dread wrapped around their vocal cords as they speak; people with anger they never thought they had the capacity to feel, people with palpable sadness and apprehension due to the fact that this man is now the symbol of the so-called ‘land of the free,’ this man that represents imprisonment in all social senses of the word. And if you have the audacity to act like everything is okay, you are part of the problem.

Keep holding out. It hurts, I know. You didn’t see yourself breaking like this, but you have. The bad news? It’ll take a while to heal. The good news? You get better. There are far too many possibilities for your heart to remain like this.

I wonder if I ever cross your mind. I'd say we had a good run, even if it was for a day. What would you say? I wish we could've kept on running together, just a little bit longer, maybe a week at least. Now that I've faded out of your life and said what I had to say, are you happier? I hope you've been smiling more lately. I hope you've been laughing more lately. I hope the universe has begun to seem more like a friend to you lately. Maybe one day our paths will cross again. Maybe we'll laugh and start a new chapter because our current epilogue is trash. Maybe we'll walk past each other like our story was never written. No matter what, nevertheless, I wish you the best.

Though I struggle with registering this as truth most days, I truly don't think I'm asking for much when I ask to be loved. When my heart is too heavy for me to carry on my own, put your hands underneath mine and help me lift it. When my mind is too dark, direct me back to the light; smile at me, tell me we'll get through this. When I'm breaking down, don't just watch, help me find my pieces, help me salvage what's left. Be present.