Revitalization's Weblog

For the curious, questioning, and wandering soul

Archive for immortality

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

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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.

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.

Tip of the Tongue

“It was a summer night and I was sleeping
the moon was out, my head was beaming
I looked at my dreams like they were gold…

but ever since that night and after
the dreams I had I can’t recapture
and it brings me down so low
the more I search the less I find
the more I look the more I’m blind”

-The Donnis Trio

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?

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.