Revitalization's Weblog

For the curious, questioning, and wandering soul

Archive for human condition

I want to try something.

I want to better myself.

I want to begin again every single solitary day.

I want to continue to explore and try new things.

I want to push myself to be better

I want to push myself to be stronger

I want to encourage myself to take an extra step

I want to mold myself into the best version

I want to love myself dearly

I want to offer myself the deep, unconditional love that I so desperately want to offer some else

I want to hold onto myself

I want to laugh

I want to smile often

I want to let the small stuff go

I want to be kind

I want to be humble

I want to remember where I came from

I want to remember the types of lives people are living everywhere

I want to take the lessons, the growing experiences in stride

I don’t want to forget my roots

I don’t want to leave my passions behind in fading photographs of a younger, more bright-eyed me

I want to touch people

I want to making lasting impressions on others

I want to be brave

I want to be vocal

I want to speak my mind, calmly and matter-of-factly

I want to be heard

I want to make a difference

I want to stand out

I want to stand up for others

I want to stand behind my beliefs with conviction

I want to not only think it or dream it, but pursue it, do it and achieve it

I want to remember who I am and what I stand for

I want to always try to be mindful in the moment

I want every moment with every person to matter, to make a lasting impact

I want to be memorable

I want to be imprinted in the minds of others

I want to be revered

I want to be respected

I want to be loved

I want to be held

I want to be kissed, deeply

I want to be safe

I want to be excited, staring into another person’s eyes

I want to watch the world pass me by

I want to have a greater wisdom

I want to have a deeper understanding

I want to find comfort in the unknown

I want to respect the process

I want to respect the time it takes

I want to remember that greatness takes time, patience

I want to be mindful, always, that the beauty you see in the world is a reflection of you

I want to be open

I want to always be seeking, searching, curious, open and available to the unknown, to what the earth and the universe has to offer

I want to be ready, open armed

Hands

She’s a young woman, waves of black cascade down as her head hangs, her face in her hands. She sits, she ponders, she feels… something sad from within. Something of sorrow.  She feels her heart, so ready, brimming with love and possibility, abundant with ardor and zeal. She feels it thumping and thumping, as if knocking on her chest from within, asking: is it time yet?

She lifts her head, her dark eyes gaze downwards with eyelids heavy, she looks down upon her hands, they’re open, concave, soft and smooth. They sit calmly before her, in no rush, wisely waiting, calmly existing, knowing that when the right hands come to hers, they will fit. Simply. And they won’t ever let go.

She looks to her past

She looks to her past, she sees glimpses of memories, the moments that made impressions so deep, imprints in her mind that returns in a fleeting second… triggered by anything, a photo, a smell, an object… She looks to her past, she sees him… and how much of herself was wrapped up in him, how she changed because of him, how much she grew in confidence and self-love because of him, how she loved so deeply for him… She remembers the love, the feeling… and… even after a year, as the details of his face become hazy, and the feeling of his hands become blurry, she remembers within an instance how it felt to be so deeply and purely loved and how beautiful and scary it was to love in return. The mind prefers to remember the good, the beauty, the special moments, the firsts, the laughs, the utter bliss, the passion… I think the mind naturally tries to block out the bad, perhaps it’s protective, but the mind easily forgets, perhaps it actively forgets the moments that broke her, that broke them apart.

And she still wonders why sometimes… She still questions where the love goes. There’s still a slight sadness that she carries with her, always, because it feels like something that was so loved, so cherished, cultivated carefully and bloomed, the love between two people that existed, that spanned a portion of their lives… well it’s not allowed to be anymore, it has to pass, to dissolve, to fade, to somehow cease existing even though there was a time where it was everything– it was vibrant, it was full of life, it was full of  future, of promise.

It’s sad, this is true, because the loss of love feels like the death of something dear. The death of something so powerful and beautiful. But she knows, at least she feels she knows, and her gut nudges her to believe that this is right, that this is how it was supposed to be. She tries, every single day, to take the good from him, from them.. to remember the good moments, the bliss, and to realize that she can and will find those emotions and feelings again. She tries, every single day, to remember that the love that she felt from him was a reflection of the love that she gave, that her openness and vulnerability facilitated that deep connection. That being true to herself, her wants, her desires and her dreams allowed for an incredible relationship with another human. And it’s a learning process, that’s what life is, right? To learn and continually adapt. She learns, she grows, and she hurts but she also adapts.

Keep growing, keep learning, and keep adapting. Take the blows in stride, take the losses as part of the journey… it’s a part of it, it’s the only true way to understand the value of love. Take the lessons and keep moving forward.

Mindful

The music starts to play, lightly, the piano sings a soft lullaby, lulling your mind, sweeping your thoughts into currents and eddies, floating effortlessly, moving with the air, with the wind. You watch the keys dance, ivory white leaping and diving in a choreographed ballet with their jet black partners following in suit. It’s as if that’s all they know, because it is all they know and all they will ever know. Their purpose and their intention being to follow their bony puppeteers, the true orchestrators, and translate thought into harmonious cadence, inviting unsuspecting listeners to be swept up in sweet serenity.

The beauty and the bliss

Is it the loneliness? Is it the quiet? What makes heartbreak so darn heartbreaking?

It’s been 3 months, and I still think about him every day. I feel my mind, my brain enjoys to revisit him in my memories. I feel my mind likes to revisit those thoughts, those moments that are so effortlessly permanent and accessible. As if my brain finds solace to go back, dig through the mess, the months, the days, to sift through it all and pull out the beauty and the bliss. Those moments of us laying in bed together, staring into each others eyes. Those moments of us making love so passionately. Those moments of us running and laughing, with such joy. Those moments of us holding handing across the table, having deep conversations about what makes us human. Those moments when I laid on his chest as he stroked my hair and I could so clearly envision our future, the years together, growing old, and going through life hand in hand, heart in heart.

I think we really, deeply loved each other. I think that’s rare to find. I think having a first love that deep and that true, well I think I’m lucky to have had that. I know I am. We were so in love, and I didn’t realize how deeply until after it ended. He expressed it often, and he expressed it sincerely. I never knew what that felt like. I never knew I could develop such a personal and raw connection with someone… a connection that held no ego, no whims, no frills. It was just us, ourselves.

And when it was great, it was truly great. And I can recall moments when I laid in bed with him, smiling ear to ear, laughing and really being present and realizing what bliss we had. I remember questioning if this could last, if this could continue forever. I remember thinking that I could live in that moment forever with him, in his arms. And I sit here, writing this, with tears running down my face, because…. because it hurts to have loved so deeply and to know, and understand that that person is gone from my life, cut out completely, a person who I loved so deeply, who cared for me so profoundly… is gone.

It’s hard, even now, to grapple everything that happened during those 13 months. But more importantly, it’s hard to understand, to really dissect and understand why we didn’t work. Why we fought, why we didn’t communicate, why we butted heads, why he kicked me out of his life, why I wouldn’t take him back. It’s hard to understand why someone who you love so much, could cause so much pain. Both in the moment, with words, but also now, with the absence of words. I wish so badly that we could be friends, because I find it so terrible, so fucking unfair that I cannot have any semblance of a relationship with the man who held my heart, who loved me so deeply, who taught me so much about myself and about the world, with the man who made such an impression in my life… why the hell can we not be friendly, why can we not for the sake of those blissful moments just leave things on good terms. Why does he have such animosity towards me ? He once said he would always love me, even if he hated me he would always love me. Where does that love go? Does it stay in the past, does it stay with those memories, superglued to our youthful selves, nestled within our soft kisses and warm embraces.

It’s hard. It really is hard to let go. I read once in a book about Buddhism that life is a constant process of letting go, of people, of places, of experiences. I think, during heartbreak, we so desperately want to hold on to the love, to the happiness, to those memories that made it all worth it, to that person that turned our world upside down, inside out and showed us a new version of the world that held endless possibility, wonder and promise. It’s difficult to let that person go, those moments go. It’s equally difficult to have faith, to somehow believe and trust that you will find someone just as powerful and influential again. Call me a skeptic, but it’s hard to believe one can struck by lightening twice. Something that felt so rare, so pure, so perfect. And it’s even harder to believe that one will find someone better, someone who is more compatible, someone who will stand the test of time, the ups and downs, someone who will weather the stormiest of fights and hold you forever.

As humans, we crave connection, we crave love, we crave unconditional acceptance, we crave companionship. I found it once. And I lost it once. I’m finding that losing it is almost as difficult as finding it. But, I firmly believe, that it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. And now that I’ve had a taste of it, of that beautiful love, of that deep and profound love… I know I’ll be chasing it again and again, perhaps forever.

 

 

Baby

You have the world in your hands, your tiny hands. You have a light in your eyes. Take it all in, every new image, every sunrise, every glimpse of your momma’s face. And learn, crawl, explore this new terrain. Make new memories of this earthy place. It is wondrous, it is vast and it is glorious. Look around with open eyes.

Stream of thoughts, no filter

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a stream of thoughts, completely unhindered, while I listened to a song.. a song that I connect to, a song that pulls at my heartstrings. Right now, I’m listening to The Cinematic Orchestra “To Build a Home.” Let the ramblings begin. This may get heavy. And tears may come. Ok here I go:

What, what do I feel, right now. I feel old, I feel tired. I feel like everything is connected and that things are moving way to fast. I see them, I see the others who have more, who have people. They have their people, their loved ones, their husbands, their lovers. I want that so much, I want that desperately. Sometimes a little too desperately, perhaps. I hate when I try to tell myself my emotions are wrong, that they aren’t supposed to be this way, that I am not meeting society’s expectations of how I should feel or how I should act. You know this is all new to me too… life, love, dating, finding a mate. Ah, this occupies my mind so much> I wonder who I am going to end up with, what my life will look like, I wonder who I will spend the rest of my days with. I can see our house, beautiful, built, warm and inviting. I see our children, I see the love that we have, that we grew, that we fostered and protected. I know that this is precious and I know that this is what I want, so badly. It’s all I want, it’s the only thing that matters. My career, no, that is nothing compared to love, to having a spouse, to having a family. I want love. Period. Period. I want love and I want true love, lasting love, deep love, I want passionate love, I want fire. I wonder, at times, whne I will get that love, if I will get that love… I hate that I doubt it, I hate that I think it may not happen, because that simply cannot be an option… and once I think that may be an option, then, well, then that simply breaks my heart. I wouldn’t know what to do… I would be stuck, I would be so stuck. And I hate feeling stuck. I hate feeling like I’m not moving forward. It’s so important in life to move forward, to get things, to go after things, to grow and breathe and become and continually strive to be better and stronger. That’s what I’m trying to do, constantly trying to become smarter, achieve more, become strong physically too, exercising always, I am trying to become a better version of who I was yesterday, and they month before and the year before. I am trying to grow up, I am trying to become a woman, I am trying to develop the traits and characteristics that will make me powerful and successful and an ideal mate and an ideal mother. I am constantly trying. It’s exhausting.. this is exhausting just writing about it.

Sigh, deep breath. What do I want to say. I want to say that I feel like in the love world I’m not moving. He, my latest crush, the man that I was deeply infatuated with, well he didn’t choose me. And, it hurt a lot. More that I expected, more than I thought it would. I was affected deeply by him, surprisingly. But, I think it was good, in a way, to know that I have these emotions, that I’m capable of wanting someone SO much, that I’m capable of feeling such sorrow and being heartbroken. I recall a quote that I read once, and I hope it to be true.. it went something like, while you may have loved deeply the wrong person, but imagine how much you will love the right one. I know I am capable of love, a lot of love, and I think much more love than I gave this ex-crush. I gave him love I think, I saw us together, in each others arms. I saw us. It was very hard to let it go, and it still is hard to think about it. To think about him with another girl. But, I need to tell myself and I need to believe and I need to understand the truth of the situation. He simply didn’t see us. He didn’t see me in his life like I saw him in mine. And while unfortunate for me, that’s that. Ah. Yes, that is that. And, I want someone who can see me in their life. I want someone who cannot imagine their life without me. I want someone to feel that deep, aching love for me, that love that cannot be ignored or denied. I want someone to truly love me so deeply that they would do anything for me and for our family, for our children. That’s what I know I need, and I know that I cannot settle for anything less that real love. real love. Not superficial. Real. I want this love… I want it….

How do I get it? Do I keep trying to be the best person I can be? Do continue to work, exercise, eat right, study hard? I think I continue to be the best person I can be. To strive, to want the best for myself because I love myself. I do. I love myself to treat it well, to give it what it needs, to nourish my body and exercise my heart. I know that’s important. I will continue to try to be the best person I can be for myself, and hope that someone will take notice… perhaps at a cafe, perhaps… I wonder where it will happen, where I will meet him. I wonder what that moment will be like. Or, I shouldn’t exclude the possibility that I’ve already met him… Hm, so many thoughts, questions… but for now, I will try to be good. And let the ever-exhausting questions, self-doubt, etc etc rest for some time. I know they will be there, they will be in the back of my mind. Questions of self-worth, of being worthy of love, of deserving something so wonderful and so precious as a marriage and a family. Being gifted the opportunity to have children of my own… There are so many questions, but there is still time. For now, there is time. So rest, rest these thoughts and continue to be good. Be open and be honest.

Heavy

My mind is heavy, it’s weary even in its youth. Weighed down by tired thoughts that seem to stream through on repeat again, and again. It’s as if my mind is a junkyard, filled with dust and debris scattered here and there. On one side there’s a stack of cars, piled perhaps 10 high, flattened and weathered with worn tires from the miles they traveled, from the world they have seen. On the other, broken and forgotten pieces of home, buried toys of a childhood that is long gone.

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us.

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there–on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. -Carl Sagan

A certain kind of love

I need a certain kind of love. I need a deep love, full of passion and ardor, full of fire. I need a patient love, a quiet love that comes with acceptance and understanding. I need a strong love, that will wrap me up in its strong arms when I simply cannot hold myself up. I need a whimsical love, full of banter and wit, full of laughter. I need a tough love that will force me to grow and become, a love that will call me out on my bullshit. I need a lasting love, that will stay and persist for days, weeks, months, years, and lifetimes. I need a cherished love, one that must be nurtured and cared for by both, every single day. I need an overwhelming and all-consuming love, a love that I breathe in and out with every breath, a love that is a part of my being, a love that that cannot be denied or replaced, a love that is absolutely and unequivocally everything. I need this love, like I need this life.

stay

stay happy

stay humble

stay bright-eyed

stay honest

stay open

stay calm

stay curious

stay hopeful.

11:18pm

Here we go. words. let’s do this. Currently listening to Cinematic Orchestra. Yes. I love this.

Well, I feel older, I feel wiser. Today, I feel comfort. I feel comfort in my skin, I feel confident. I feel good. I feel better than I did before. I feel wiser than I did before. I feel like I’m ready, I feel like I’m getting there. I am getting SOMEWHERE. Somewhere good, I hope, I aspire. Hmmm, this music is so loving, so simple. It is rich and full. I can sink into it.

I’m conflicted here. Ok, here I go, no holding back. I’m torn, between two men, both friends, both wonderful men, both strong, both attractive, both loving. One clearly communicates better than the other. Aye, no more of this nonsense. What shall be, will be. Let the wind take it. Let the world turn, let things fall into place, let things happen. It always turns out as it is supposed to. Always. Simply don’t interfere, simply live, and go, and go with your intuition, and it will happen. It always does. I love trusting in nature, trusting in life, letting go. let go. trust and let go. and nestle in the comfort that things will work out. They will. They will. They will. Sigh.

Hmmmm, what else. I want to be confident and sure. I want to be myself and I want to go after what I want. Stop thinking and start acting. Stop second guessing. Just go, just do. You can.

When I listen to this song, it brings me back to reality. It brings me home, it brings me to myself and connects me back to life, to mortality, to these fleeting days of our lives. It reminds me that things are just things, but we are people, and we find meaning in and with each other. We are people, and we must find shelter in others. It reminds me of the stars, it reminds me of this universe, of the millions of stars, of space, of time. Of the grandness that exists, of the grandness of this life. Of everything that we get to experience, by fortune, but perhaps it is just because of our nature. We get to experience this, these things, because we are human, because we received the fortune to be born, to be here. We get to see light, and colors, and perceive beauty, and feel love, and feel the wind, and look up, and dream. we get to dream. what fortune. we get to see life, and death, we get to grow old. We get to feel. We get to learn and experience and explore and venture and take risks. We get to do all these things. It IS amazing. It truly is. You must know this, you must realize what great fortune we live in. What we know, what we are, well that’s something great. That is something that you must reach for, reach out and hold it tight. Always recognize the beauty that surrounds you, including the beauty that is you. Always be in awe. Always stand back, with eyes open. With eyes wide open. Realize that the pettiness that surrounds us, that surrounds you, is just that- petty, and small, and simply and oh-so-utterly unimportant. Realize that the grandiose that surrounds us, that surrounds you, is just that- grandiose, and wonderful, and amazing. Just… please… always realize, always remember, to stand back, with eyes wide open.

never forget the miracle of what you are

Be forgiving to yourself. Be forgiving, be non-judgmental, be kind.

Look at you, you miraculous being, alive, breathing, full of life, full of inspiration and creativity. Look at who you are, look at what you have, look at what you have accomplished.

Never, and I mean never, forget the miracle of what you are, of what we are as a human race, of what life is, of what being alive is. You are here, right now, in this moment- relish that and act upon it. Move, travel, explore, grow, do everything, exhaust yourself, suppress feelings of failure and REACH! Leap, take the risk…. go on, be great. There’s a whole world, and a whole mind to explore, there’s only everything to gain.

Go on, Friend me!

Since 2007, I have been using this blog as an outlet for my wandering thoughts, ideas, and dreams about life, love, nature, humanity, the universe, and much more. While my hopes are that the sole purpose of this blog is to put my thoughts out into the universe, I am also curious about who relates to my posts, who resonates with my words, as well as who vehemently disagrees! I deeply appreciate all the comments and “likes” from those who have skimmed my ramblings. In the hopes of reaching and identifying my readers, I have created a Facebook profile:

http://www.facebook.com/revitalization.wordpress

All new posts will show up on this page- feel free to leave comments!

Well…what are you waiting for, go on, Friend me!

doubt

I see those people, those people who have loved. Those people who have loved and loved, again and again. I see those people holding hands, in stride, breathing each other in. I see these people, in search for something raw. Something true, something deep, something profound. They’ve got something special, some sort of courage. Inherent will. Something compelling them..

And as I look back, I wonder if I’ve ever had that. That courage, that will… has there been anyone? It’s a funny thing. In my mind, a complex thing, like trying to grasp chaos. Trying to organize chance. Attempting to define randomness. But, perhaps, it’s much simplier than that… one would think right? something so common, so so inherent and integral in every being. It just must be there. It just must… somewhere within all of us, as natural as the genes within our cells. one would think…

Call it criticism, call it doubt… I guess I’ve been bred to doubt until known. But I doubt, and this seed of doubt rooted. I wonder, is it a sham, is it forced, is it simply comfortable?

sink.

sink into life.

feel it wrap its arms around you

feel it like the paint oozing between your fingers

feel it like the mud between your toes

close your eyes and with a soft smile upon your lips, feel it in the wisps of the wind

it’s stirring, it’s buzzing. every inch of this earth. the people, the cities, the tiny microbes

it’s overwhelming really. but to capture all that life is, well that would simply suck the wind right out of you.

to be aware of such utter brillance…. well that’s nearly impossible

it’s like staring at a thousand suns, you simply must to look away.

All we can do is take it piece by piece, and moment by moment, and be simply overjoyed that I’m here, because of one million chances, one million twists and turns, one million maybes. I’m here.

While it may be dumbfounding, and perhaps it will never ever make sense, here we are, in a utopia laid out before us.

here we are.

sink into life

feel it wrap its arms around you

until my eyes lose you

Would you just stop and pause? It makes me so frustrated when you speed through the days. It makes me so angry, it makes me clench my fists when you steam ahead, leaving behind a blurry trail. It makes me stomp and cry out. You, like lava pouring down a mountainside, unstoppable. You, like a speeding train, accelerating and accelerating, broken brakes. You, whirlwind. You…. you’re leaving. you’re getting further away. you’re already disappearing into the horizon, getting smaller and smaller, until my eyes lose you. You’re far. You’ve left me behind, you’ve forgotten. How? How could you have possibly let me go, how could you let me slip from your grasp, so smooth. You’re far and I’m here, crumpled cardboard cut-out. Gazing at the surrounding vastness.

22 and looking for love

Here’s the honest truth put bluntly. I’ll admit it: I want hollywood love. I want all the romance he’s got, I want the man to pursue me. I want the man: the tall, muscular and fit man with blondish-brown short hair and minimal scruff, who can look amazing in a suit and a fitted black t-shirt all at the same time. I want the man: the confident and witty, yet sensitive man who has every ounce of passion for life that I have and perhaps even more. I want the man: the honest and kind family man who will be a fantastic father, husband, and lover. Are you starting to understand that I am slightly delusional in seeking for what I and millions of other single women would term perfection? But can you blame me?

In life, people strive for the best in any aspect of the human condition. We seek the best tasting food, we try to show the best sense of style, we attempt to satisfy all of our personal desires with the very best, given material limitations. And in love too. If one considers the nature vs. nurture scenario in my personal conundrum, nurture wins out ten-fold over nurture. Since an age when we start to perceive so-called beauty, our environment is quick to define the version of perfection.  It’s ultimately what I described in previous sentences. Images of beautifully rugged men fill every angle of our peripheral vision each and every day. But not just images. It’s the notions, the personalities, the embodiment of values in combination with an extremely fortunate DNA. We are duped into believing that this perfect man is out there for every un-expecting, small-town, girl next door.

I fully understand that my expectations are undoubtedly shallow, unrealistic, and unattainable. But, I simply cannot help lusting over this ideal. And I can admit that this is my downfall: that I find faults fast, that I am unforgiving, that I pass over the just as amazing, nontraditional men. But, it comes down to the fact that reality cannot compete with an idea that is rooted within our collective conciousness. Ultimately, real men on earth simply cannot compete with made-up men who stand among gods.

reality within a dream is reality

MY dreams are amazing. beautifully filled with 5 senses– sight, well of course. the taste of chocolate, the smell of lemons, the touch of a passionate kiss, the sounds of human voice. perhaps the only sense lacking is reality in the traditional sense. But for that moment, for those utterly passionate moments, reality within a dream is reality. Without one doubt, the dream convinces the mind. Or perhaps the mind convinces the mind.

Dreaming, simply not so simple, is a space for the mind to wander. A space for the mind to fulfill desire, to face fears, to be invincible. It’s a reality completely our own. A reality, created somewhere between lobes of my brain. A full-fledged universe, with all the bells and whistles. A world undeniably mine, created and destroyed night after night after night.

Within that world, just as justifiable as the reality we exist in, the mind acts out, unharnessed from the ties of logical consciousness. Chaotic and oh so wonderful.

instinct from deep within

we grow from perfection. perfect eyes, perfect skin, perfect souls. we enter the world with total innocence that begins to fade the moment we take that first gasp. that first scream. that first wailing cry. evolution begins to creep out. out of our DNA. millions of years of evolution begins to take complete control. it dictates our first step, our first words. it dictates absolutely everything. instinct, from deep within. from deep inside. instinct that has been developing since the very first life, and the very first death. life and death, for millions of years. Breeding instinct, breeding what we are today. we start innocent, but we grow like seeds soaked in history, predetermined from the beginning of time. oh don’t be so naive– you have no control. everything that you are has been written since the beginning of time. you are simply fulfilling some master plan, preset well before the formation of your very own conciousness. animals simply breeding evolution for a future race, a means with no end in sight.

the perfect body and the perfect mind

I can appreciate perfection. I can appreciate complexity. I can appreciate beauty. It’s all I strive for.

a much needed release

here’s what I want to tell myself: just let go. It’s so exhausting to have an iron grip on everything, on every action and thought. There’s hardly anything one can control in life. It’s time to exhale. It’s time to release. All of this worrying, all of this dreaming, fantasizing, I fear life is happening in the background. Take what you get, it’s all you can do. Oh sure, it could have, would have been different. But, while the past in solid, it’s secure, it’s never-changing, and always will be, the future is a complete unknown. It’s the ultimate plasticity, it’s malleable, it is undecided. Perhaps. I guess, the goal is to be content, or not so much content as okay with, at peace with what has happened, what has occurred. All you can do is live in the present and look to the future. All I want, all I want is to let the past fade away, whatever I was, whatever fears and fantasies have held my hands, I want to let them drift with the wind. Step forward, and take what you get. It may not be ideal, in fact, it probably won’t be. But it’s something. Work with the cards life hands you and adapt. Only those that adapt survive. So in those moments of uncertainty, just choose. One path. And go full force, with every fiber. Don’t look back, adapt, and go after everything, everything.

days dwindle and time prospers without you

As I’m hummingMatchbox 20  to myself, as I am oo-ing to myself, I’m thinking why. Why, and always why why why. Music is amazing to me, so so wonderful, it’s painting with the mind. Singing too, it’s gorgeous, it’s complex with all the minor, miniscule intonations. While I’m listening, I try to dissect–I try and pick out the little switches, changes, flips and dips. I try to figure out how the artist changes her/his voice, how these split-second decisions are made. When I listen to an amazing singer, an amazing, classic, heart-stopping, heart-throbbing, one-of-a-kind, stop you in your tracks kind of song, I must listen to it again, and again, and again, and again, and again. I listen and I learn, I try and observe every aspect, every angle, every dip and every flip. Sometimes, I can listen, and I can close my eyes, and paint in my mind. With a broad paintbrush, dipped in red paint, sometimes green, sometimes teal, I paint. It’s surreal, it’s luxurious, it’s beautiful. I can make art in my mind while I listen to the music, it flows.

Inspiration for art. It comes from music, it comes from life, it comes a lot. Sometimes, I can come across a thought, I can come across a scene in my life, and I can imagine it as art. Like a movie scene. A snapshot. I see something new.

I see a movie theather, with couples and singles scattered about. All facing a bright screen, black heads block some light from your vantage point.  I see myself in the middle of the theater, surrounded by strangers, all watching the same film, the same fate. I mean, can you imagine, seeing your life on the big screen? The first scene: your birth, you- a screaming baby enters the world with no warning, with no idea. none. Then you see your childhood, you see your transformation, you see development, you see your parents, your siblings. You see yourself starting to categorize the world, you start to learn judgement, you start to percieve, you start to realize your own thoughts, unique to the world. Then fast forward, you get taller, you get older, you age and you attain awareness with each passing year. There goes your teens, 20s, 30s, 40s. Can you imagine? Seeing past today, into the future. You see yourself as you will be. All the more scary and exciting…. could you imagine knowing one’s fate in this moment. Knowing where life goes, where you go. Knowing everything that will ever happen, right now, on the big screen, surrounded by my myriad strangers. You see yourself go gray, you see yourself age. Surreal to think about…. I mean, right now, that future doesn’t exist. It never happened, so it never will? Oh sure, every human goes through it, aging, but it’s singular. It’s unique and it’s belongs to oneself. I think experiences are unique, and while we see others go through them, their uniqueness, thier singularity is never tarnished. Childbirth, oh sure we know what happens, every detail, every moment. But, to experience that, well, that is unique. That is something special, and something that belongs to only a few. Death. That too is ultimately unique to every person, every life. Oh sure, we see people die, we see….people die. People die. But, to experience death, to experience, first-hand, it’s indescribable, it cannot be shared….And back to our featured film. You see yourself age, go gray and grow elder. Days dwindles and time prospers without you. Will you be remembered? Will your life, so unique and special, so wonderfully delicate, so singular in this booming universe, will it cause an echo? An impression? Will anyone even notice when you fade away? Oh man, I can’t touch that. I can’t go there, I can’t imagine that. I can’t. I can’t see that. I can’t. I can’t imagine bright lights going black.

Competing With Creation

As humans, we are always creating. New technologies, new medicines, new expectations, new standards. With progress comes improvement, or so we believe. But, are we creating things we cannot compete with? With unachievable standards of beauty, fitness, life accomplishments and more, it’s hard to believe that modern humans will ever be satisfied. Magazines, TV shows, and movies are all sending signals, messages, and cues about what life should be, and moreover could be. And so we begin to crave that, strive for that, reach for that… But do we ever reach it? Or are we constantly falling short to the standards we place upon ourselves? Perhaps we are our own worse enemy in some sense.

Why care?

Why do we care? Why are we concerned with not only ourselves, but about others. Go farther than family. We seem to care about strangers, as we are all selfless. Caring for the well-being of others… but why? Why do we want to reduce poverty in the global south? Why do we want to cure infectious diseases and cancer? Why do we want people to stop smoking, start exercising, and eating healthy? It seems altruistic on the exterior, but I don’t believe it.

What I do believe is that humans, and all animals, are selfish to the core. Our actions, our decisions, everything we do is always for our own good. Directly and indirectly. Take, for example, eating ice cream. We eat ice cream because it feels good and sends endorphins to our brain. We educate ourselves in order to get high-paying jobs. We exercise because we want to live long and disease-free. But, we also help others because it helps ourselves. Perhaps out of ego and pride, we advise others because it gives us a sense of superiority, we look for cures because it satisfies curiosity, we lend a helping hand because it makes us feel good.

Altruism- the act of being unselfishly concerned for the welfare of others. Not possible. No no no. We are all selfish, even if it is for the purest intentions, we always gain something. From every action, we gain something.