Revitalization's Weblog

For the curious, questioning, and wandering soul

Archive for tears

I’ve known love once

I’ve known love once. I fell in love once. I don’t think I knew what was happening, because I had never known love before. He was beautiful, he was charming, he adored me. Slowly, we fell in love. And there were moments, those outer body moments, where it was like I was watching us, so in love, wanting that moment to last forever and wondering if everyone in this world has felt bliss like that. I wanted to live in that heaven for eternity, laughing, smiling and in utter bliss. We had such beautiful moments, full of passion, utterly real, two people completely vulnerable, honest, and wrapped up in each other. I loved the way in smelled, the way he felt- his skin, his hair, his jaw, I loved the way my eyes met his. He showed me himself, he gave me everything. Needless to say, that when it ended, it was like a sucker-punch to the stomach, the wind was knocked out me, I saw my utopia disintegrate in front of my eyes, my heaven shattered. And in a split second, he was gone. I found myself alone, without my lover, my best friend, my person. I’ve never felt such pain, such distress, such confusion, such longing, such loss, such sorrow. It was like a death. I couldn’t understand, I couldn’t fathom how a love like that could fall, break, dissolve, disappear…. simply end. I don’t think I understand it fully, even to this day…. I don’t know if I ever will, but maybe that is because I was only half of it, half of us. But also, I don’t think any answer or reasoning will ever satisfy my deep sorrow for why it ended. Why our love wasn’t enough, why we couldn’t make it work. Still, I think I have gained some understanding, some closure, some peace because in my heart and in my mind, I know it wasn’t right, I know that if I went back it would have been settling, it would have been dishonest, it would have been cowardly, it would have been out of fear of being alone. So, there are two things I now know for sure: we were deeply in love and we should not be together.

Do I regret falling in love now knowing the gut-wrenching pain that followed when it ended? No, I don’t. I would never and could never regret that. Because now I have known what love is, what it feels like to love someone so deeply, and to be loved by someone so deeply. It’s like nothing else I’ve known. That gives me hope, that gives me excitement that there is even more to discover. It seemed like and still seems like finding love is like hoping for lightening to strike you. It seems like such a beautiful, awe-inspiring, and amazing thing like love would be such a rarity, that to be able to discover it again may be every so close to impossible, but I’ll take that odds. I, right here and now, take those odds, I bet on myself, I bet on love. Always bet on love. I’m better for the experience, I am more knowledgable and more understanding of what’s out there, and I’m even more excited and eager to discover what I have yet to know or experience. As I peer out towards the future, the unknown excites me, who I will become excites me, and who I will come to know excites me. I’m not waiting for love, I’m not putting my life, my aspirations, my dreams on hold, but I’m hopeful. Hopeful that I will find another love that is deeper, truer, and more enlightening than my last. I sit here, at peace, happy and ever so hopeful.

What is it?

What is it about a man?

Is it his eyes, that pierce straight into yours, beautiful blues and greens. Is it his smile? That genuine smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. Is it his jaw? Strong, firm and covered in soft facial hair. Is it his shoulders? His arms? His hands? That pull you in and hold you tight at night, that pick you up and twirl you around, that wipe away the tears from your eyes. Is it his chest? The most heavenly place to rest your head and allow your mind to wander as you feel each and every lub dub. Is it his legs? Long, lean, powerful and able to run beside you. Is it his smell? So intoxicating, it smells of home, of familiarity. It’s a smell that comforts, that reminds you in an instant of the essence of him. Is it his mind? Utterly complex. A mind that knows the world but remains untarnished and unjaded, a mind that is humble and kind, patient and loving, giving and truthful.

What is it about a man?

I wish

I wish the best for you. Only the best. In life, you will experience good things and bad things, and sometimes great things. I wish you will relish in the good, bad, and the great.

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.

do not read

So let’s write. Right from the top. Play words like piano keys. Music from the mind.

Big sigh. What to write about tonight–dim lit room, it’s quite calming, really.

Blink. Blink. Um. . . . . . . .   .   .   .    .

10 minutes have passed.

4 more.

mind blocked. locked.

Snatching the Unattainable, Only for You

Fuck this shit. FUCK this. These expectations are too high. You put them there, on the highest shelf. Out of reach. Criticize and criticize, until you’re blue in the face. Fuck this shit. I hate it. I cannot handle it. I’m supposed to be hard and tough, build a hard, plastic shell around myself to protect my fragile innards from the verbal wasteland known as your mouth. Well, I don’t. I don’t have a shell, perhaps I tried to build one, make one…. but it has cracks, deep cracks and go straight to the core. and every time you poke, every time you comment, it sticks that dagger a little deeper, it widens the crack a little more, revealing a swirl of vulnerabilities.

Ok, so I’m not good enough. Is that what you’re getting at? That I’m not worthy of this time and this money, these resources and all that you’ve given me? Is that it? Because I cannot achieve the best, be the best, be the one and only BEST, that I am not worthy. This may have been a bad investment. I may have been a bad investment, because I certainly am not what you want, what you desire in your heart.

You, you want perfection. You want this from me. How cruel and undeserved. You tell me I’m wasting time, I’m wasting money, I am wrong, I only do things wrong wrong wrong. I can hardly take anymore. It is hurting my heart. And I’m afraid that there may be some permanent damage.

Oh sure, you’re blind with a vision. You’re blind with ego. But, you don’t see what you’re doing to me. Breaking me down, with every small comment, telling me oh so very indirectly that I am imperfect and wrong. Never right. I can never be right or good.

Disappointment, that’s all I ever feel. Well, perhaps that’s a bit extreme, but that’s what I feel right now. Disappointment because I cannot attain the unattainable. Because I am not good enough, and you expected more. You set the bar too high. And while I have tried for years and years to reach that bar, standing on the tippiest toes, I always stumbled, I always bumbled in your eyes. You don’t see me, you only see my faults. You only see what could be, what should be. You don’t see what I am, and what I have achieved, what I have managed to accomplished in the endless pursuit of trying to appease you and your thirst for perfection from me.

Oh it’s tiring, oh I am tired. This has been an arduous journey and I feel myself breaking down. I try to shield my fragile beating heart from those words, I try to persevere. But, there comes a time when you get through to me. You cut right into me, break me down and tell me to stand up to take some more.

How am I supposed to be a confident young woman, outgoing and smart? How am I supposed to tackle this world and believe that anything is possible, when, you have undoubtedly shoved straight into my face that hardly anything is possible, because I have achieved almost nothing.

You break me down, but I still come whimpering back, trying to please and appease, trying to gain your approval and praise, trying, desperately trying to snatch the unattainable-only for you. I try, I try, and I keep trying.

my dear run! little lion, head towards the wind.

quick lion. move fast. leap and bound across those fields of gold. heart of gold. I can see that. run run, rage run. take your courage and run. don’t waste it here, don’t waste it now. your heart is on the line. my dear. quick quick, run and don’t look back. nothing behind. nothing here. everything is ahead. tremble. run run, grace run and be gone with that. learn from me. start new, start anew, my dear run! little lion, head towards the wind.

i’ll follow you back with the sun in your eyes

baby doll. you’ll be okay. look up, what do you see? stars.

cut the chatter. let it melt.

Ah. there it is.

it’s crystal clear, really. it’s in front of your beautiful, lovely face. crisp green and bright blue. cold wind.

it’s been there.

it’s there. breathe deep. clear. it’s so clear.

and what do i see? I see leaves, i see the glass surface, i see snow caps, pure white, i see blue mountains, i see spidery roots, i see you

it’s moments like these, when I know that it’s this. this. come into this, come.

it’s vast and it’s pure and it’s all i’ll ever need. it’s real and it’s alive and it’s there. it’s been there. simply.

night drops. dark blue and bright. the sky opens and there’s beauty. such wonder, a blanket of truth

be here.

my mind forgets, like a sepia photograph slowly turning white

Memory: intangibly forever. It’s really all we have in this life. When time speeds up and our lives slow down, all we are left with is a shallow collection of memories—it’s all we have, it’s the only proof of a life lived that counts. While the ability to trap time and space within our minds is utterly glorious, it is undeniably frustrating.

As I grow, as I age, I find that my memories from yesteryear are riddled with gaping holes, leaving shreds of random recollections. While they may not be random, while there may be some subconscious grave importance to the memories I still keep, I cannot help feeling disappointed in the inability to remember every single solitary moment.

My memories are sliced into pieces, spliced together, and strung along a string. Like a kindergarten art project, my memories are hole-punched. Euphoric memories are salvaged, while dull and negative memories are excised. They are snipped from the stream of remembrance, and discarded so carelessly. They fade away, like a sepia photograph slowly turning white.

My mind buries the bad. My mind forgets, consciously concealing.

I find myself remembering only certain things; I tie these recollections down with double knots, and think about them for weeks, months, and years. I never fatigue from grasping onto these memories with clenched fists, constantly dissecting them, mulling them over, trying to dive deeper, searching for… something true.

I hold on tightly, perhaps TOO tightly. And while I desperately cling to certain events, others are forgotten. They are shoved out, dumped like trash in a gutter. I find myself disappointed in the limitations of my mind. It is devastating to know that those memories are gone—those first memories of light and sound as a newborn, the memories of walking and talking for the first time, memories of a childhood—they are all slipping away. WHY! I want to hold onto my humanity. I want to remember and reflect and ponder and know EACH day of my life. Each and every single day that I lived, that I was in existence. WHY should I have to forget.

I don’t want to forget this life. I don’t want to forget what it meant to live, what it meant to grow and evolve. I don’t want to forget the progression. I don’t want to forget myself.



Dark. Black. Possibility.

Sometimes I wrap my hands across my eyes and peer into the black. I see abyss. Dark. Black. Possibility.

I see what I could be. I envision something… different.

I see a little girl, frolicking on the dusty street in her faded dress and bare feet. I see a newborn baby, with soft pink eyes shut tight, dreaming of light and sound. I see a young man dropped to the ground with his head in his palms, broken. I see a child peeking around the corner, only to catch a glimpse of golden light pouring through glass windows. I see a woman running along the tides, thunder rumbles behind as her hair whips back in the wind.

I envision something… desperate, something forgotten

For a moment the earth has slowed down, the mind settles, and all that matters are deep breaths of pure, cold air.

I imagine I’m sitting at a cafe, under an awning. It’s raining. It’s night. I’m just sitting there, breathing in that clean, crisp smell. The water falls on cobblestone roads, as the yellow streetlights reflect across the pavement.

It’s a quiet rain. A heavy mist.

It seems like everything is calm, for a moment. For a moment the earth has slowed down, the mind settles, and all that matters are deep breaths of pure, cold air.

finding love isn’t easy, you have to be ready for it

Some people are open to love. Some people live with open hearts and those kinds of people find each other- at the supermarket, book store, coffee shop, or what have you. Those kinds of people will love often, and grow frequently.

I’m not sure if I’m like that- for some reason, maybe life experience or maybe genetics, I’m not someone who is open and free with love. I hate that. I wish I was open, honest, and forward.

hmm… some people have it…. some people know what love is, how to attract it, how to find it… some people are in touch with that… that innate human intuition…

looking for love is lonely

I realized something today.

I want an simple life. With a few things: family, friends- lots of good and caring friends, happiness, and above all love. And I think that’s the one thing lacking here- love. And I think that a lot of people want love. It’s a human necessity really, and we feel incomplete without it. And I think I try to fix or shift the other parts of my life, trying to accomodate, trying to figure out some way to get love, find love, be in love.

I hate waiting…. it’s lonely…

dusty footprints are swept away

I think about those common people, who have been swept away with the wind. Those who have died, those who have loved, those who have lived greatly, those who were. I think about those people who used to be living, and now exist only in the wind. While they tried, desperately, to put their footprints on early terrain, while they tried to create lasting impressions, to make differences, to be remembered.. they were forgotten. And to no one’s fault… they were forgotten because that’s what happens…….and that’s what always will happen… people forget, memories fade fast, and dusty footprints are swept away by the breeze.

I wonder if that’ll happen to me. I know inevitably it will. I know that everyone I know and everyone I will ever know will fade away with me, when I’m gone. I know it will happen. It’s an eerie feeling, and a spooky thought. While I have lived, and while I am trying to do good and great things…I will fade… along with all that I know, and all that I’ve done. In some sense, one must ponder, then what’s the point. Why even try? Because in the end, everything breaks, and people forget… but I think it matters. If not to anyone else, actually… to no one else, it still matters. To you. You will remember, and you will have lived, and loved, and done grand things… you will remember… even after being swept away… I hope………. I hope I will remember

I am not alone. and I love that.

I feel BRIGHT and WARM. Inside my smile, inside my chest. I love this feeling of closeness, of connection, of relating. I feel like this, right HERE, this is reaching out.. what we do here is reaching out.. trying to grapple and grasp onto anything that we can relate to. WordPress- it allows us to attempt… attempt to find someone who we can relate to, people who we can feel with and feel close to. It’s about trying to reach out, and see how similar humanity truly is. And while we’re going through our own lives, and it may seem near impossible that there are others who are experiencing the same thing, I think this helps us see that it is near possible that there are. There are people just like me, just like you, just like them, who are having the same thoughts, same feelings, same emotions, same ideas, and while, in this ever-lonely world where human contact is dwindling, we are still reaching out- across oceans, trying to grapple and grasp someone who is the same. I love that.

You have yourself. So have yourself. Be yourself.

you know… it’s about a lot. and this might just be bullshit, but hey who knows, it might be true…

today, i just feel like writing, and i just feel like there might be someone listening. I feel like, if anything, I could be listening! I will listen. listen up self.

it’s about a lot. life, i mean. life’s about a lot, and it’s about realizing that life’s not short. LIFE IS LONG. Life is long, and hard, and beautiful, and tough, and crazy, and at the end, we may want more. I mean, quenching a thirst for life, I don’t think that even exists- you gotta want more and more, and at the end, you feel like wow, it’s done. life’s done? i mean…. really? how can that be? And i hope that once i get to that point, when I’m saying Wow, life’s done, and this is done, i hope that… well i hope that i had a great one. One that i can be happy with, and feel fulfilled. Not financially, or professionally, or superficially… but internally, and simply happy. content with what i’ve become. content with what has happened.

Life is long. and… while i fear a lot… i fear that everything won’t happen for me… i fear that i made mistakes.. i fear that i won’t have enough time… i have to believe that it will happen for me, and that while i have made mistakes, there is time and it will happen. it will come.

It will come. Will it come? I think we have to believe that it will. I think there is no other way to live. Because to live in fear, doubt, and frustration… well that’s no way to live. Oh sure, fleeting doubt and fear, it comes, but it should go. let it go.

Let it go. And hold onto hope, and believe that it will come. Because, if anything, trust in the fact that you have yourself, if nothing else, and if no one else, you have yourself. And that’s special. That’s unique, and undeniable. That’s remarkable, and no one can take that away from you, even after it’s all over. Even after death, you have yourself.

You have yourself. So have yourself. Be yourself. Be honest with yourself. Because in the  end, things break, people leave, and the world turns- and if there is nothing left, nothing at all, you have you. You have you, and that’s remarkable. So trust in yourself, trust in life, trust in promise, trust in the human condition, trust in you that: it’s about a lot, and while life is long, it will come. So let it go because you have yourself. Undeniably.

Why do we get to be?

Fragments. Fragmented, cut up, broken. It’s what we know. These sharp shards of all that we know sit in our minds, and somehow we cope. I mean I don’t really get it… I don’t get how I can live in this world, and accept that I don’t, and will never understand everything. I don’t get how I can live in this world, and walk the same paths, and do the same things, and see the same people, and not understand everything. Honestly.

We come into this world, a screaming pink ball, so angry that we had to come out of that comfort place, that beautiful warm womb. We come into this world, and are expected to adapt. And grow. And accept. Accept all that we see, and all that is, we must accept it because it is here, and it is real, as real as we know. And because it is here and because we can see it, touch it, feel it, it is real, and that’s all that matters. So we live in this world.

We live with these fragments. Fragments of what life is. Fragments of what “human” means. Fragments of a higher power that is all knowning. Fragments of an eternalness of it all. Fragments of the universe that we somehow, somehow are a part of, without even acknowledging it, we are, we are a part of it. Fundamentally, and essentially. It is unquestioning. Right? Maybe.

I just don’t get it. I mean, I get that there is life, and there is us, because I am here, at least in this moment I think I am, and I think that’s good enough to acknowledge that this is true. Right now is happening, at least we think it is. But, in essence, what does it matter if it truly is or isn’t. Because thought, and agreement that what is, IS, well that makes things real. And so I am sitting here, real. I am real, and you are real, and we are living in this world together, as we imagine it and percieve it, and how we see it makes it how it is, because that is all we know. And so we sit here, together, in this world, seeing, living, breathing, and nothing.

No questions. No demands for answers! NOTHING! I don’t get it! I don’t get how people are just “OK” with this. This reality- people accept it, undeniably. As if this is real, because it is what we know. There is no questioning. None. There is no question about why! There are no questions about us, and the universe, and where we come from- where these personalities, and thoughts, these complex and unique thoughts come from. Sure, from DNA, from genes, from biology, but why? Why do we have capabilities to be? To be freely thinking and moving? Why do we get to be?

Why do we get to be?

I guess that’s the question right there. And, if we get to be, and I think most would agree, at least those who are, that we are, right now, right here, we are. And if we are, and we get to be, and maybe it’s this wonderful gift, maybe it’s a mistake, maybe it just is, then why do we get to die? Why do we have to die? Why do we get to live and get to die- it should be really one or the other. But then again, who I am to say what things “should” be like. Haha, it’s comical really, to think that we can suggest how things “should” be, when we have no control over how things are. We are just thrown into this reality, and are expected to accept it, and to just be “ok” with the fact that we get to live and we get to die.

So why do we get to be? And why do we get to die?

That warmth that fills your heart with hot red blood

And you stand with hair pulled back, and your hands are pressing against your ears, and all you can hear is the pattering sound of water on your skull, your cranium, your mind. And then the water rushes in, and fills all voids, swishes around and around in your mind, warm and fuzzy. Warm lights. Yellows and orange, it’s so peaceful, as if in back in the womb, when there was absolutely nothing, where there was just warmth, and light, and dim echoes of sounds, and the comforting sound of a mother’s heartbeat, of a mother’s voice. And your eyes are closed, and a slight smile sits on your lips, and you are cared for, and loved, and all is wondrful and beautiful because you are here, surrounded by warmth.

And then you open your eyes, and you see where you are, and  you see you. You see you and what you have become and you wonder what the hell you are doing right here, right now. If you have made ANY difference in this fucking world that you have been living in, so blindly. As if you haven’t started living, as if you are waiting for something good or great, something to change, some major life change  after which you will start living as the person you want to be, and you feel you need that fuckng push. That SHOVE. And it doesn’t come, and so you wait, and you slump, and your shoulders hunch, and your eyes lower, and your spirit withers, and all you have, all you hang onto is that little glimmering hope that ONE DAY that change will come. It will bring you up, lift you high and take you across, where all is good and wonderful, where life begins, and where you so desperately belong. And as you wait, and wait, and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait, you see the fucking damage that this time, this torturous time has had on your rocky heart, and your wrinkled brow. And then self-pity sets in.

And all you want to do is crawl back into that warm place. That warmth that fills your heart with hot red blood and flushes your cheeks. That place that you know was the one place where you were sure, and all you had to do was close your eyes, rest your mind, and feel soft pulses, plush sounds, calm breaths. Just be still.

Diaries of a Vagabond

I sit here, listening to some sad music, putting me in the mood, urging me to write pitiful words. Hah. The hairs stand on my arms, my eyes ache. I love the violins, the sad sad violins.

Just BREAK me down! I am starting to crave it—just an earth-shattering blow to my world. Break it into one trillion pieces, break crack rip smash. Oh what I would give to…. To move, to start again and again and again. It gets so boring. One life, one way of  life, I’m tired. Turn it upside down, shake my shoulders. Am I seriously the only one? The only one who is bored, bored of this, of doing this, again and again. Eat, sleep, gym, study, work, play. How utterly dull, such monotony.

I don’t know how to do it, I don’t think I’m big enough to take the step. I don’t think I could do it to myself- change it all, just leave it all behind. Really, if I just picked up and left. Stepped onto a bus, and went. Got onto a plane, and left. Just left. I mean I don’t know if…. Hmm……vagabond

                                 

My shine is wearing off. Like an old penny, covered in age. The glisten in my eye is dimming, the light in my pulsing heart flickers. Maybe reality is setting in, and I am hearing. I am seeing what ‘to be human’ really means. I’m seeing agony, I’m seeing heartbreak……………I’m seeing fear….. helplessness.

 

I can see it in strangers’ eyes. I see how much it hurts.

 

But we get by, because that’s all we know. And so we shuffle along, and keep treading water and we make a little life, surround ourselves with material comforts, and try to forget, plug our ears and close our eyes shut tight, and just block out what we don’t want to hear, what we don’t want to realize is so true.

 

And I see myself… I can see myself on this path, on this specific road, going down the ignorant road. Is it so wrong that I want something different for myself, for me, is it so wrong that I want something great? So just give me an earth-shattering blow and break me down into one trillion pieces so I can wake up and start again, so I can try again………. I just need to try again….let me try again

a random 15

I like the smell of hot milk.

I love sleeping in soft beds.

I think I’m a sincere person.

I like to sit in the front of the bus so I can see the road.

I try to read books that will open my eyes.

I love getting hand-written notes.

I like listening to songs over and over again.

I prefer rainy days.

I think there are people that weave in and out of my life, and I in theirs, where we have never met and may never meet, but somehow we are undeniably connected.

I want an amazing romance.

I like to make eye contact with strangers.

I save random objects and notes I find in a little hidden box.

I write things on money in hopes that they will return to me in years and years.

I look forward to really honest moments.

I sometimes forget to look up at the stars and realize how infinitesimal life is.

 

 

A Social Experiment

I’m starting a social experiment to discover how beautifully interconnected I believe the human race truly is! Please visit my new page: reveal your story.

Send me your life stories, or events and moments you experienced that were life-changing, inspiring, and revolutionized your view on life.

I am sure that I as well and many others will benefit from reading your story, so please send them to revealyourstory@gmail.com

a stomach-churning crunch

It’s haunting really. Those fleeting thoughts, that come so quickly they stop your heart. Like suddenly falling flat, with your nose crashing into the ground in a stomach-churning crunch, blood flowing ruby red and tears well so quick you can’t hold back. And you turn over and just lay there, hands scrapped and cheeks flushed. Sprawled, feeling like shit, and peering up into the dull gray fog.

You get angry, with a furrowed brow, and you wonder why the world is so fucking black. Why the hell you got these cards. What the hell did you do wrong? And you wonder when! You wonder when the hell things will change, when things will be better on this barren earth. God, there is so much corruption, so much violence, so many men that die. How can I not help but to look at all that is bad, it stares me in the eye, clouds my vision. Men die for words, for WORDS. But, what’s more disturbing, men kill because of words. Men kill because of disputes about whose God is right, whose God is good. Oh god, people die, millions of people die.

Understand that I’m not utterly devestated that people die because of violence, because of unjustice, because of wars, but I’m am utterly broken because people die. That simple, simple fact. People die, prematurely and without satisfaction, without achieving passions, without loving, without knowing, without accepting a fate.

This fleeting thought, it hits me so hard some days. It hits me so fucking hard, that I can’t help but to buckle and cry and scream and clench my fists and pound my hands on the hard ground until they are red, until my spirit breaks. Death represents such an end, such a permanent end to my life. Not in a biological sense, but an end to me. An end. An end to the my thoughts, to my world, to my universe. At my end, the universe stops, it simply stops and that is so inconcievable. It might as well have not existed, it might as well have not been. I don’t know when I’ll be able to accept this, I don’t know if I ever will- it scares the shit out of me, and I can’t face it without feeling such honest terror. Where will I be when there world stops, the sun never rises again, the moon never shines once more, the heart putters to a stand still and all that’s left is silence, deafening silence. When will I take my last breath, take my last step, feel my last inch perish. oh god.

his beautiful face and his beautiful mouth

why the hell not?

I can visualize these things that hold me back, I can see shyness, I can see embarassment, I can see fear, I can see nervousness.

But above all else I can see him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his beautiful face and his beautiful mouth. I try to catch a quick glimpse, capture a fleeting image.

He’s beautiful, the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way he looks

I think we could be good, great even… and I don’t even know him and I don’t approach him and I watch him leave as my heart follows

I wonder why I can’t have him, why I don’t pursue him, why the hell not?

I’m one day older, one day weaker, one day closer to a final day I’m not ready for

I feel I’ve tainted this blog. It’s pessimistic. It’s just that I’m not in a good place right now. I am so desperate for something beautiful it’s driving me insane. Literally stuck in such sluggish normality. I get frustrated, I get stuck. I feel stuck. I need something different, something good, something really good and new and refreshing and exciting. Something that makes my heart race and my palms sweat. Something that makes me giddy as I bite my lip, trying to hold it in. I want to feel my heart race, I want to feel it accelerate and beat rapid beats. I want to feel my heart.

I hate my timidness, my desperateness. I hate when I shut my mouth, when I choose not to. When I don’t just act, just do what I know I can, could.

I’m not writing well. I used to be better. I used to be inspired and ready. I used to be expressive, open. But, I’ve never really been bold. Never.

I’m afraid what will happen if I’m not. Boldness is tough, it’s like putting yourself out there, in the open, and just being totally honest and truthful it’s completely freshing.

Stop holding back, stop stop stop. Life is ending. You just lived another day. Another day out of your limited days. Another day passed, another day that will never come back. Another chance that slowly swept away.

I’m one day older, one day weaker, one day closer to a final day I’m not ready for.

even though I don’t know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you.

I deeply connect with Valerie’s message in V for Vendetta: “Our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have. It is the very last inch of us. But within that inch we are free….. Every inch of me shall perish. Every inch, but one. An inch. It is small and it is fragile and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must NEVER let them take it from us. I hope that whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the worlds turns, and that things get better. But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that, even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you. Valerie.”