This Is Where I Live

I don't care what tomorrow brings, as long as it brings an end to tonight. I hope my life does not end up being just a series of unfortunate events. Tonight, right now, through the tears of my defeat I don't feel like much. The trouble with believing in things wholeheartedly is if defeat comes, it is your whole heart that gets defeated. Though I may not have found it today, my hope still lies with the future. I get up every single morning with the possibility, though yesterday did not, today might belong to me.  I am noble enough, and tomorrow is close enough that one more blow, though it may crush and wrench and break, will not kill. The world doesn't care if I failed today, it takes me along ceaselessly and always gives me another chance to prove myself.

The Almost, Always.

Chin up, hang in there, hold on, hold out, be strong, be brave, be patient, keep going, don't stop, this is a marathon not a sprint, everything in due time... yes, I've heard all these before.  I'm sorry if I seem despondent, it's not that I distrust your intentions, I've just been losing so long I don't remember how it feels to win anymore. So please, withhold your words of wisdom. I don't need to be reminded I live in a world of perpetual almost, I promise you, I didn't forget.

Helpless

What a terrible price to pay for loving someone. Bereavement is a ridiculous consequence for caring about someone.

Twinkling Lights

When you are down in the city you would never know it looks so beautiful from above. In the middle of things it all seems so busy, so singular, so one dimensional, if you never stop to see the bigger landscape it is all brake lights and traffic signals. Looking at the painting from atop, high above the hustle and the bustle it becomes a giant expanse of twinkling lights. If you never stop to see where all those little pieces fit, you miss the lovely picture it all turns out to be. It all makes me feel so lucky. Wouldn't you be happy too? If your world was just a giant expanse of twinkling lights? I guess this really is a city filled with stars...

The Parts Make Up A Whole

Memory is cruel and brutal at times, a thing lost, a grief incurred, a heart broken, a trust betrayed, a disappointment endured, a longing unrequited can quite often upon remembrance bring as much pain as the thing itself had at the time it occurred. The pangs of regret can stretch a moment out so far it feels impossible it ever was but a moment, and now seems to be an eternity, a lifetime to pass either since or before it's end. While painful in it's time a sorrow more than anything shapes the person you are, and are to become. Mourn the death of the innocence lost of the version you were before, and feel comfortable in looking back. Memories fade, as do scars, cuts heal and broken hearts mend. Forgive your memories the pain they cause, and forgive yourself the mistakes they represent. Take each unhappiness and hard stroke of fate and let it shape you rather than break you. Turn your memories from brutal and cruel and forge them into tools, let them help you build your character. Love all the parts of you, cherish the best, embrace the sad, calm the spiteful, soften the angry, and forgive the rest. Each part makes up the whole of you, and that above all else is precious, more so than any regret could possibly be.

Bad Days

What's that? Yes, I know it's late but I just had to tell you this. Sometimes things are just terrible, and there is no arguing a day where everything goes wrong, every red light awaits, every paper cuts, and not a single plan comes through. Good people are sick, bad people are not, and Karma seems to have taken the day off. Worries and loneliness plague the mind and sleep seems to be only a distant albeit fruitless memory. Yes? I know, but that is not the point, this is. Thank you for answering my call so late, and listening to me complain. Thank you for spending your time on me when you could be spending it somewhere else. Thank you for loving me on bad days. Thank you for constantly thinking the best in me and believing in me even at those times when I find it hard to do myself. But very most of all, thank you for giving me this one good thing, it means more than this one bad day.

Satisfied

It seems that you are always searching, and while I applaud your enthusiasm for new and more and different and better, I think you are losing something in the process. I don't doubt the reality of more and new and better and different, but isn't there also some value in old and less and consistency and what you already have right in front of you? Do you miss the great things in front of you (and behind you) because you are too busy looking past them to what is next, to some incredible ideal? Is it so wrong to be satisfied? Is it really so dangerous to be happy with what you have? I just don't understand how you will ever be in a place to appreciate what you have if you are always waiting to see if something better comes along, worried you are missing out. How can anyone or anything ever be made to feel special under those circumstances? And how can anything survive without ever being made to feel remarkable?