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Reflect Out Loud

"The unexamined life is not worth living." – Socrates

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Reflections

Another one of those…Wait for it… Free Writes. Bahaha

Hi. It’s me… again…

Talkin’ bout some shit.

Some real shit. My shit. My bullshit.

Sorry for being vulgar. I didn’t mean to disrespect. I’m just letting what comes to my mind out for you to see.

There is so much I want to tell you but I don’t even know where to begin.

I’ll start by telling you what I’m doing.
Well, writing this, obviously. But I’m also listening to Joel Osteen.

Bringing me back. Back to those days where I “knew” Jesus.

And I put “knew” in quotes because I don’t think I ever really knew him like I know now.
Well, not “know” cuz I don’t know shit.

Which brings me to my other point.

Look, I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing here. Why am I here? What’s the point? I don’t get it.

And if I could get it – meaning if it were possible to KNOW – truly KNOW. Would I want to know? Would it make any difference? Then what? What do we do then? Continue watching Netflix like it’s an average fucking day?

What would happen if  I were to shoot myself in the face. Would it matter? Sorry for being dark. I don’t mean to scare you. I’m just saying why does it matter if I live or die? Really? If there is no point then who cares. You’re all gonna die anyway and it’s gonna be nothing and nothing is gonna matter, so why you getting your panties in a knot about me wanting to shoot myself now?

Not that I do want to. Though I’ve thought about it. Just because there are days where I don’t care.

Although I do care.

Most of the times.

Anyway, enough of this dark bullshit.

I am the happiest I’ve ever been.

And also confused as fuck.

I’m trying to do all these big things but it’s hard to know where to start and then I psyche myself out and become overwhelmed.

Then I cry about it. Complain about it. Read about it. Write about it.

Tell myself not to give up. Take it one day at a time.
Ya know, casual pep talk.

I’m trying to tackle the big fucking questions.

I have this crazy theory about God being good and in control of all things but also not in control. It’s this paradox.

I have these crazy thoughts about heaven. And hell. And the devil.

I like the devil. I probably have mentioned this here somewhere before. Or maybe not, I can’t recall.

But not the devil in terms of evil, even though I believe there is a place for everything – including evil.

The devil in terms of the dude who had courage to stand up to God and be like, SUP? I want a piece of this shit. Why we all gotta do what you say? Why can’t I just do my own thing. Why you getting all upset? Why do you wanna hog the whole chair and not let anyone else sit on it? Why are you being greedy for? Why are you trying to send me to some fiery pit just because I don’t agree with you? Why can’t we just get along? Why can’t I do me and you do you? Why it always gotta be your way? I get it. Cool. Your way is sick, bro. You got some amazing things going on here and it’s all beautiful and perfect, but why cant I just go over here and do what I want? What if I don’t want this bullshit? What if  I wanna, I dunno… maybe smoke some weed and fuck bitches? Hahaha, just kidding. I don’t really want to, but maybe I do and if I do why you gotta get all upset about it? We’re all in agreement here. I’m not taking anyone’s will like you’re taking mine. WTF. Is this love? Is this what you call love? This possessive, aggressive shit? And then you got the balls to act like I’m the one who’s trying to take people over and make them do things they don’t really want to? I dunno, man. I dunno. Something’s not quite right about this. You want to fight about it and create this whole war and act like I’m the bad guy when all I ever asked was just to be free. To be free to be me. To be free to be you, with you, I dunno, whatever. I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I’m getting so confused. But I really don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want to be hurt either. I don’t wanna hurt people and places and things. I would rather not even exist. I didn’t ask to be here, did I? When did I ask to be here? Did you make me? You made me right? Don’t you know everything? Aren’t you “GOD.” I’m sorry for disrespecting you by putting your name in quotes and shit, but really, aren’t you supposed to know EVERYTHING? And if so, didn’t you know that this is who I’d be? And if so why are you trippin’? You fucking made me this way. Why? So you could throw me into some fiery pit? Ain’t that some fucked up shit? It is if you ask me. But what do I know? I’m just some evil mother fucker for having an opinion, I guess. Look. I just want this fight to be over so we could all be at peace and I could just go on about my business and like not give a fuck.
Or I dunno. I don’t know the point of all this. I’m tired. Yeah I wanna have fun and see the sun and do things and listen to music, but whatever I could do without it at the end of the day, really. I’m just cool with not existing, honestly. Cuz then it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, really. Not even you. But I want to not exist on my own terms. Which is some crazy thought. So crazy to think about a life without you. Without me. Without anything. But only for me, ya’ll can continue to do whatever ya’ll want. I dunno. Maybe we could have both. Maybe we could have something beautiful. Something beyond belief. Something so beautiful we’re trippin’ out ourselves, like WHAT THE FUCK, dude, this is amazing. Like I can’t even believe it type thing. I dunno. Now I’m just talkin’ shit. Talkin’ out loud. Which is how this whole thing started anyway. Okay. That’s enough. I’m gonna go on about my day and be a fucking human. And do whatever humans do. This human. My human. you.

WHOA.

what the fuck. I dunno what that was.
I mean, I do. Those are my goddam thoughts. Out loud, bitches. For you to see.

For you to hear. For you to do whatever you want with it. I guess. I’m scared. I’m scared something really bad is going to happen to me. And that I can’t avoid it. And that would suck. for me. But I really hope nothing bad happens. Because all I want is love. All I want is peace. All I want is to be happy. And I want that for you too. I would never hurt you. I mean, I probably would because honestly I’m evil and I’m not ashamed when I’m in my ego and really want to destroy everything and everyone including myself. But that’s fucked up. And it’s stupid. And it’s just angry and dumb. And I’m over it. I just know that I would never in my right mind ever want to hurt anyone on purpose for good. Because I wouldn’t want that to be done to me. And sure, it’s selfish to say that I wouldn’t do it to you only because I wouldn’t want it to be done to me. But that’s the truth, man. I don’t want that. And if I don’t want it why would I want that for you? Only if I was some real evil motherfucker who didn’t give a fuck and who just truly didn’t care. And maybe I don’t care. But not to that extent. Not to that level. But, that’s just me though.

Okay. I’m going to end this here because it’s gotten out of control and it’s a sick mess.

But I’ll tell you where it’s coming from.
It’s coming from these roots that were instilled in me at a very young age about good, evil. heaven, hell, right, wrong, bla bla bla. I’m just trying to get to the root of it, heal it, and have a good life. I’m tired of hearing people tell me I’m going to hell. Or that anyone is going to hell. Fuck that. But seriously, guys, I don’t want there to be a hell. That shit’s wack.

okay. bye.

whatever.

I’m going to leave this unedited.

(Minus a few spelling mistake I caught in the original… and this sentence)

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Vague Ramblings

I feel like I’m caught in this weird limbo where I’m not too old school and I’m not too new school.

I’m some mixture of rotary phones, AOL, Spice Girls, Backstreet boys and when Snicker bars were still 50 cents type era combined with some of today’s millennial spice.

What the fuck am I going to do with my life? That’s my current meditation.

I came out to Cali for the weather… and yeah it’s been pretty nice… but it could be better.

I keep looking at Florida weather and it’s looking really nice right now.
I am a 75 degrees and sunny typa gal.

I like to feel the sun on my skin.

I can’t stand the cold.

I’m liking the properties out in Texas.
Big. Modern. Luxury. CHEAP.
But at night it’s looking pretty cold. And I hear summers are brutal.

I want warm, beautiful, and cheap.

On a side note. Fuck my job.

Working 40+ hours a week doing a job that I hate IS NOT how I’m going to write my story. I can’t do it, man. Shoot me in the face if that’s how it’s going to be.

“It’s only temporary” is the mantra that’s getting me through.

 

I like to drink coffee throughout the day. It’s my addiction.

I’m also addicted to thinking about the past. And the future. And imagined scenarios in my head.

I’m looking for new apartments in San Diego.

But I’m trying to find what is worth me staying here… because so far I don’t see much. I can get warmth in Florida, plus cheaper property – so what the fuck am I gonna stay here for?

I came here for the warmth. And it’s not even that warm right now.
It’s not New York City cold, not even close – but it hasn’t been as warm and sunny on most days right now either.

Greg. That is one of my reasons to stay.

My goal is to find a place I am fairly happy with and give Cali a fair shot.

I’m still trying to figure it all out.

I haven’t written a poem in a very long time.

But here are these vague ramblings…
My complaints. My humanness.
My less than glamorous thoughts out loud for you to see.

Emotions and Self Love Reflections

For a while I’ve been recording videos to myself about the random shit I think about throughout time — ya know, stuff like my feelings and what the heck am I gonna do with my life.

Sigh. Woe is me.

These videos were never meant to be shared. They were for my purposes. To see myself progress through time and to process my internal dialogue OUT LOUD.

BUT now… here is a compilation for your eyes and ears in blurry, perfectly imperfect quality!

 

Reflecting… Out Loud

Who has the answers?
Is it you — girl in the corner twirling a charcoal pencil between your fingers, arched over the sketches of portraits in your high waist jeans and blue 1970’s vest draped over a loosely fitted, eggshell button down shirt?

I woke up from a different version of a dream I had during my childhood:
Jesus comes back and I am left behind.

I see an expansive white light cutting through the fabric of space revealing light shaped figures of men in horses. In the moment it was clear what was separate from the light. And I, left behind, on the other side of the light, suddenly struggled with the realization that I was wrong. I chose wrong. As I frantically fought my way through unfamiliar people and objects in attempt to approach the light to plead that “I didn’t know any better,” my awareness beyond the dream state chimed in saying, “This can’t be right. This has to be a dream.”

WTF…

This week I’ve been contemplating “what’s the point?”

Well. That’s actually a common contemplation of mine.

But it’s more often been in the forefront of my mind the question of “What truly is the point of all this and what is the right answer?” If there is no “right” answer, how do I really know that’s true? How much more right is it to say “There is a right answer” vs. “There is no right answer?” when we don’t have ultimate proof of either.

Sigh.

Let’s talk about psychedelic experiences for a moment. 
Are they real? Or are they simply your brain responding to powerful chemicals? Nothing truly mystical or magical here – only your brain having a response to a disruption in its normal neural circuitry which manifests itself in symptoms like disassociation, distorted vision, distorted sense of time,  blended perception of senses, (seeing colors, tasting sounds), visual hallucinations, among others.  
When we have a psychedelic experience are we tapping into some real, alternate realm? Is there REALLY AND TRULY some other dimension where there are beings of forms beyond the earth existing?
Or is it just your brain making these things up in response to a drug and then people come out of it thinking it’s real when it’s just as fake as a Hollywood movie?

What do you make of the works by Alex Grey?

What is true about the nature of reality?
Do the people who promote the law attraction have it right?
Are we really just energy and we can manifest anything we want into our life simply by becoming a vibrational match?
Sometimes these thoughts scare me. Because if this is true, I am fucked. My thoughts can go to some pretty dark places and the last thing I need is to manifest them into reality.

Co-relation does not mean causation.  

Who really knows whats going on here?
Is it the Scientists? The Christians? The Buddhists? The Quantum Physicists?
Can someone please tell me – why? For what am I here? 
Why is there something rather than nothing?

Does this all truly matter in the end? Or is it truly meaningless? 
Which is it?
What even is “the end?” Is there life beyond this?

If I knew, would I be satisfied with the answer? 
How would I know that I know?

How can I truly know something?

I have my basic senses to guide me. But they’re not enough. There is so much that they do not detect. And my intellect is that of a mere, average human. 

Maybe I’ll never know. What if this “I’ll never know” attitude is what stops me from ever digging to find out? 

Why do I even care?

I wish I didn’t.

I wish I was someone who didn’t care.
Someone who could just live their life in peace. Not feeling the need to seek anything. To know anything. 

Someone like the girl in the corner twirling the charcoal pencil between her fingers.

 

 

Thought Thread – A Free Write, Sort Of

Thought Thread

Days like these I want to dye my hair purple, get a half sleeve tattoo and say, “fuck you.”

I’ll do it eventually. You’ll see.
Not that you care.

Sometimes I don’t care. I laugh when it’s not funny.

I am angry.
Partially.

At myself. At you. At the world.

I wish I wasn’t an enemy to myself 80% of the time.
My inner critic is off the charts. Stabbing me left and right.
Leaving me a bloody, wounded child.

That’s me being dramatic.

What in the living fuck do I have to complain about anyway?
There are people starving and going through real shit – and here I am, sitting in the comfort of my home sipping a glass of wine complaining about why I feel life has been a little less than kind to me.

What a joke.

Whatever.

I’ve been using the word “whatever” a lot in my writing lately.
Whatever that means.

I’ve come a long way in some ways.
I am proud of myself.
Not always.
But sometimes.

I love myself – sometimes.
I hate myself – most times.

It’s a terrible thing, you know? When you live as your own enemy.

Whatever.

I miss you. And you’re probably okay without me.
I’m okay without you too. But it was nice seeing your name pop up on my phone making me believe you cared.
Whatever.
I’ll just listen to sappy music and sip more wine until you finally fade away.

I don’t understand myself.
I hate what I’m doing but I keep doing it. Because the pain of staying hasn’t yet grown stronger than the pain of leaving…perhaps? That’s what they say, anyway.

I want flat abs, but I eat fried food and chocolate.
I often behave contrary to the results I want.
I get possessed by a side of myself that despite knowing better acts against good sense. Then I beat myself up about it.

I beat on myself all the time.
I’m always waiting outside for me at 3 o’clock. With a bat. And a taser. And 5 other friends.

I’ve been working on it, though.

Whatever.

 

I want to say more of what’s on my mind.
Be raw. Genuine.
Say fuck off more often to the people I just don’t care about.
Stop pretending.
But it’ll probably get me fired. Or excommunicated. Burned at the stake. Or all of the above.

So many of us are so goddamn sensitive.
Ya bunch of sissies.
Myself included sometimes.
Can’t handle an ounce of criticism and I’m all ready to jump off a cliff.

In the ever lasting words of Red Forman…
“dumbass.”

Sigh.

I give too many fucks.
I need to retract about 849598 fucks. Maybe that’ll stabilize me to the point of giving just enough fucks to not be too nice or too mean.

I used to think I was a good writer.
Now I sound like an idiot.

Whatever happened to the poetic side of me?
I haven’t written a poem in a while.

I like country music.

I wonder if this is really good-bye.
Why is there a tiny, little piece of me that thinks otherwise?

I don’t care.
I’ve listened to “Bored” by Billie Elish more times than I can count. On repeat.

I’ve listened to other songs too. And I’ve cried.
I cried because of you.
I cried because of my dissatisfaction with life.

I bought a pack of cigarettes.
I don’t consider myself a smoker.
But every now and then I will buy a pack.

There’s certainly a history of addiction in my family.
And a pervasive pattern of separation.

Guess I’m doomed.

Whatever.

I want to flow with the wind.
Be one with the stars.
Melt into the nothing.

There are moments where I am overtaken by bliss.
Everything is so perfect.

It’s temporary.

Everything is fucking temporary.
Like your morning embrace.
And the fleeting, gentle touch of your lips against mine.

Whatever.
I used to imagine going back in time quite often.
Now I find myself more intrigued with the future.

If I ever get cancer, I will not treat it. I’ll just watch myself die.

Moods are so transient.
I go from one extreme to another.
Then I swim in the in betweens.
I am all over.

How can I make long lasting decisions when my moods are not long lasting and ever changing?

666 is (was) the word count as I start this sentence.

I don’t know where I stand on the subject of God anymore.

I have a very complex idea about it all.

New year, new me, eh?
Fuck clichés.
They annoy me.
Not always.
Sometimes they speak volumes.

I need to be more open minded.
There are still things that bother me.
I think that if something is bothering me than I have not yet come to understand it. If I truly understand something, it shouldn’t bother me, unless I am being preferential.

I think it’s okay to have preferences, though. As long as we’re not spreading hate.

I prefer chocolate over vanilla ice cream. But I don’t have to spread hate against vanilla.

I also think it’s okay to spread hate – as long as we are in a simulated reality program that isn’t ultimately real and we are just having the experience of hate but not spreading hate in reality.

 

Whatever.

 

There’s more I wish to say.
But at the same time I am over it.

I want to be more okay with myself.
With who I am, what I believe and what I like.

I don’t want to dim myself because of you.
Fuck you.
Not in a mean way.

Sigh.

I am not a fixed being.
I am fluid.
I care.
I don’t care.

 

I can’t define myself or my feelings.
Every moment is too different from the next to say I am the same.

I wish I could pause the perfect frame.
At least the perfect frame in my universe while at the same time giving you space to define what’s perfect for your own goddamn self.
Fuck off.

Would I want to stay forever or leave?
What even is forever?
Too many questions with no answers.

It seems like life is about loss.
You lose everything in the end.
But what is the end?
The actual end.

Whatever.

Should I go back and make edits to this or leave it raw and completely vomited as is?

I’ll probably leave it.
(I’ve made some edits)

Who cares.
In a universe that appears to be so big, all of this is practically irrelevant.

I fight myself on my thoughts regarding relevancy and relativity. And it annoys me. Because it’s like one giant god forsaken Rubik’s cube that I can’t ever put together.
So I end up throwing it in a corner in a fit of rage.
Then I’ll pick it up again 2 months later after a drunken night in the city.

Right now I am annoyed.

And sad.
And a little excited.
And a little I’m missing you.

And a little okay.

Quite okay.
Quite alright.

Quite.
Quite the motha fuckin’ soup.

Wow.

How long have I rambled for?

Probably more than I’ll ever be proud of.

This is probably one of those posts I’ll scroll through and pretend it doesn’t exist because sometimes I become embarrassed of myself.
Probably because somewhere along the way I learned that it wasn’t okay to be me.

Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.

Ugh.

Sometimes I want to SCREAM.

Scream so loud and pull my hair.

I’ve done it before.

I’ve done a lot before.

Though at the end of the day, I think I’m a pretty good person.
Like I wouldn’t be able to throw you in a fire knowing full well that I could when it’s all said and done type person.
But why?
Because I want to be perceived as good?
That’s another long topic I don’t care to elaborate on right now.
But my inclination is to think that it’s just fucking stupid to hurt others for my own gain. My inclination is to want to be just fucking dandy without anything or anyone having to do or be anything for my pleasure. I am my own pleasure.
Is that selfish?
I don’t fucking know.
Dammed if you do, dammed if you don’t.
There’s no winning.

Maybe I’m just love sick.
Am I craving your love or my own?

It’s hard to live dependent on externals.

I wouldn’t want to be alone.
I think it’d be nice to sleep hugging each other forever.
Dreaming all sorts of dreams yet knowing we are in actuality just eternally safe in each other’s arms.

BARF.

But fuck it, if I was alone it’d at least be nice to be my own friend.
Kind of like a kid with an imaginary buddy, ya know?

I think I am officially done elaborating on anything any further at this time.

If you’ve read this far, wow, I’m impressed.
I can barely stomach it myself.

But then again I’m probably my biggest hater.
Isn’t that weird?
When did I learn to be mean to my own self? Probably because of you.

Probably. But who knows?

WOW.

 

I think I’ll officially end with, “whatever.”
Because really, fuck it.

What…

ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ramblings…

“Experience life in all possible ways —
good-bad, bitter-sweet, dark-light,
summer-winter. Experience all the dualities.
Don’t be afraid of experience, because
the more experience you have, the more
mature you become.”

― Osho

Ramblings

What’s there to talk about? The same old thing, the same old stories.
It’s not really “old” though when I really think about it. Every moment is so unique, decorated in its own way, in its own flavor.

I feel like I am going in circles. Chasing something I can’t even describe.
There is this empty feeling I can’t seem to fill.
It isn’t always there, but it’s there, nonetheless.

I want to be happy. Don’t we all? But there are moments where I’m simply not.
Maybe I am ungrateful. And truth is, at times I really am.
I am over trying to cover up the dark side of my self.
Yes. I lie. I cheat. I envy. I hate. I get jealous. I have negative thoughts.
But that’s not all of who I am.
There’s that childish, innocent side. The side that dreams of love, rainbows and peace.
The side that sees no wrong.

There’s also the in between side. Which is a little of everything. That’s who I really am. All of me.

What’s the point of all this I keep asking myself?
What should I live for?
Do I live to chase money so I can buy houses and cars and clothes that leave an impression on people? Regardless of what I do I’ll leave an impression.
What kind of impression do I want to leave? And do I want to impress you or me or a balance of both?
What kind of person do I want to become? What kind of feelings and experiences do I want to be having? How do I even begin to learn what is truly important to me and how not to live to impress others?

I have a hard time answering these questions because I have a long list of “shoulds” implanted in my brain.

According to whose “shoulds” should I live?

I allow too many people to take space in my head and influence my decisions. I feed energy to too many stories.

I also change a lot which makes it hard to even decide on any one thing.
So I am trying to boil it down to experiences and feelings rather than particular details.

Here’s a list:
I want to experience and feel:
Happiness
Pleasure
Peace
Contentment
Confidence
Trust
Fulfillment
Relax
Laughter
Love
Kindness
Belonging
Creativity

Here are some experiences and feelings I want less of:
Fear
Anxiety
Doom
Panic
Hate
Envy
Pity
Lack
Depression
Loneliness
Rush
Confusion

There’s probably a few more I can add to both the lists but this seems enough for starters.

So now that I’ve narrowed what I want to experience and feel more of… how am I going to go about my life to embrace more of those wants?

Good question.

*image credit to google images

Aware

I am aware of myself. I am aware of being aware.

I question the motivations behind my actions. When I’m not satisfied with an insight I look deeper into myself to challange my thoughts. I don’t like it when I realize that I am doing things for selfish reasons. Like wearing a sexy outfit to get attention. Then I ask, “What’s wrong with a little attention? Isn’t life supposed to be fun?”

“Is that your idea of “fun”? Being all sexy for attention!?” Says my conscience in a condemning tone.

“Well… Yeah… It’s kinda fun. Looking all spicy and all.”

“Shame on you.”

“Shame on YOU for thinking ‘shame on you’ for something so natural. Do not the peacocks flaunt their feathers?”

 

I can back and forth with similar dialogues in my own mind for hours. An entire drama in my head. I guess  that’s one  way to save money on theatre.

 

 

Patience

Every time the universe gently whispers the word “patience” to me, like a frantic child I hold my fingers tightly to my ears and violently yell, “NO! I want it NOW!”

ME:

I ask questions like, “When? When will I finally be where I wanna be? Have what I wanna have? Do what I wanna do?”
“Nonsense!” Says the universe in a playful, loving manner.
“Whoever told you that life is comprised of one single instant where you finally reach some end? That’s not life. There will always be something to get, do and be, since at every moment at the same time you are becoming you are undoing. The moment you are born you are dying; evermore unraveling. You are a process of being, becoming, breaking down, reconstructing, transforming. Relax. Be here now. Enjoy here as you go from instant to instant. Carry the enoughness from the present moment into the next moment and you will unravel gracefully without feeling like NOW isn’t enough as it is. Even if you get everything you want in one moment, the next moment there will be something new to experience. You make your bed and marvel at the neatness. Soon, you undo it to sleep, and repeat the next day. You wipe an army of dust from your work desk. Soon, the dust is right back and you must wipe it again. There’s no end to the process. There is no permanent state of perfection, except in stillness, because life equals movement, and movement equals chaos if not for intelligence. Chaos relies on intelligence to organize and maintain it. You are part of that intelligence. If things become too hectic, your consciousness can flow in and out of stillness as you please. This, in part, is why you sleep. Take it easy on yourself. Breath! Aaaahhhhh – you smell that? That’s life, baby! Enjoy it. Be it. Stop freaking out and going all cray cray trying to be more, have more, do more all at once. Do what you can for right now. Be what you are for right now. Have what you have for right now. Together, we’ll deal with what’s next as it comes. Everything will work out – I promise. Trust, act as necessary, and have PATIENCE!”

Compilation of Small Reflections

And then you realize that things don’t always go the way you wish they would. And you learn that even though you want rainbows in your sky there seems to always be a storm to cloud your sunny day.

Some people overwhelm me.
Some people drain me.
Some people make me feel good.
Some people inspire me.
Some people annoy me.
That’s life.  If everyone made me feel the same, I wouldn’t ever learn anything different.

There is no need to argue the truth – the truth speaks for itself.

I am not the same person who started writing this…A second has passed, I am now a second greater.

All things have a breaking point.
So, in a sense, That means all things have some sort of vulnerability since nothing can withstand everything.

Nothing in this world of forms is forever. Even the thing you think is most guaranteed – like the light of the sun – one day will no longer be.
Place your hope not in what your eyes could see and your hands could touch. Place your hope in the eternal. That is where your treasure is.

Your viewpoint is valid.

Don’t want to go anywhere or do anything or be anything…. I hate living today. Why do I exist when I never asked to.

You are who you are and don’t have to apologize for it. You don’t have to feel guilty for feeling how you feel.

It doesn’t have to be one reason, it could be many reasons that all make up the ultimate reason.
Like a pie chart. One chart, many components.

I don’t know how I am supposed to know what I want to do when every day I feel different and want something different.  I am not the same every day, so how can I say what I want tomorrow when I can only know what I want today? I don’t know what I’ll want tomorrow.

It is Fear’s job to protect you of life’s dangers, so it’s only natural to feel afraid. Fear becomes a problem when your life is guided by it, keeping you stuck and blocking your intuitive heart. Find your balance. Feel when to go and when to stay.

Let me show you how beautiful you really are. Let me show you how perfect you are.
But I need you to trust me.
Give me your hand.
Don’t be afraid.

It’s the magic that happens when we look in each other’s eyes. It’s the feeling of forgetting the world because we are all that matter. It’s that childlike curiosity and the tingly feeling in your stomach. It’s that magnetic force that pulls us back together when it’s been too long.
And sometimes it’s the daunting fear that I will never see you again. But it’s always the hope that when I open my eyes, you will be standing right there again.

Life is a jungle and you were selected to explore it. Even with all the people around you, you’re the one who must ultimately walk your path.

You don’t want to hold on too tight to things. It’s all going to go, go, go. Sooner or later it’ll all go, go, go.