fine

need those steps to carry you forward

as one takes one foot and places it in front of the next, what is pushing her forwards? what holds her up as she falters in her breath and her choice? what is holding her upright as she looks down and sees unfamiliarity?

will you hold on even when the times become rough? will you be there even when no one else is. when no one extends their hand toward you because they would rather look the other way.

hear that laugh disappear so quickly you thought you missaw. see you and see him bind themselves into one. look up but down even faster so you do not trip when the unforeseen manifests itself as a chip on your shoulder.

let’s all go together. to the one who was, who is, and who will forever be.

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i will be fine. we always turn out fine.

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Too Careless For Me

Learn to see those doors that close, and walk away. Realize the blinds that come down and shield staring eyes that look within. Remember when you and I were just but strangers, walking down unaligned paths?

So beautiful, this earth that we reside on. The greens that rise ever so slowly, being sheltered by the many buildings that skyrocket – their limits surpassed by those after them. The blood red sun; hidden behind the thickening clouds.

Can you see the carelessness that litters your steps? Or the unfavourable traits that one cannot forget because they are so affected; it’s ingrained within them to not realize it’s effect – until it takes stem.

As these days go by, everyday I realize the happiness of those whom bring me to smiles with their every picture, video, recording – and remain grateful for the life I was granted; beyond that day four years ago.

Move on, they say. Take that step, further and further. Set those sails, and float away. What good is it to think back and reminiscence?

Not much. I agree.

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Thankful to friends whom reside in beautiful cities and shorelines.

Boundaries

It’s been a while since I last took up this pen.

I had wanted to wait a bit before I decided on the course of action.

There’s this fence that is often built around one. The fence initially does not exist. There was no reason for this structure to be built. It is through the experiences and events that take place, where one sees a fence slowly take shape.

At first, it may have been just a sliver of inches; similar to the newly grown grass that takes bloom as Spring descends. It grows steady and in color. Green as can be, as it slowly takes on a life of it’s own. Starting out fresh in scent; with it sparkling in the sun because of it’s unfamiliarity.

As more events take place, the height ascends. At times slower than the rest – knowingly boundaries have to be built, but only a millisecond at a time. Other times, those events wreck havoc, and the height skyrockets. The grass begins wilting, but continues it’s ascent.

Over time, this fence changes. It had started as grass, easy to cut; easy to maintain. But one day, this grass fades, and wooden boards take it’s place. Like a tree’s trunk, it is solid and without waver. It stands strong against the winds and waves. The oak becoming aged, but the stability stronger. It does not ever change shape, because there is not much that erodes the core of it’s base. It remains as is, a ring around that one.

Listening to the thoughts of others makes it obvious how cautious or carefree one truly is. There are some whom are filled with cheerful laughter, spontaneous interactions, and above all – radiance in knowing the grace of this world and it’s beauty.

Then there are the others.

Those whom had seen much before the rest of us. They have experienced the lows and the highs (though not as frequent). Their thoughts are clear as mud. Not easily influenced as they hold onto the crux of their soul; seemingly defined from a delicate age, and crafted through the hands of others.

Learn to be positive, they say.

What if that was never a trait to be encompassed by that one?

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You’ve only one life to live, why make it as unhappy as you do?

 

Remainder

It’s seemingly in times where I do not know where to turn, I turn to my hands. These hands that have started out small, on the ground, as I was learning to crawl. These hands that slowly lifted themselves off the ground and instead aimed for the skies. As I went through life and realized, one’s works are most prized of all – I put them to work; night and day I churned them. When they were not holding pens, pencils, calculators, mouses, or tapping away at black, white, or electronic keys – they were found grabbing food to fill my hunger. Hunger that was only temporary and momentous, before being filled, and then back to work.

Those days of where busy-ness seemed to litter every corner of my life. As I worked for myself, but most of all – my family. They were the ones I was around when I came into this Earth. Everything I try for, they are among those whom I think about the effects that affect upon. But doesn’t it feel as if you are bound down when you realize your limits, though for an aim, are restrained to a certain extent as you take other considerations into play, when making decisions.

So tiring. Where were those days when everything was constant, with unlimited uncertainty. I found solace in those moments. As I took every step with those around me, the consistency was comfort as I knew there were no farewells to be said. Being easily accustomed to the presence is a curse in some ways. As they move on, you remain there. But with the lingering sense that haunts one for quite a while. The lighthouse, the captain. Do they frequent enough in my heart for this void to be sealed away, until the return?

Claude Monet – Secret Garden

These 38 paintings. The largest exhibition in North America. They are here. Until a certain end date, as all things seem to approach, at one point or another.

Come.

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Remind me of where I’ve been

Without You

Taken as an excerpt from the one who feels lost amongst all

Have you ever had that feeling where you are so fixated on one object, you lose motivation to think about anything else?

That’s consumption done right.

There’s no need for desire of anything else. Your thoughts are consumed. You wish you could think about any or everything else; it’s seemingly locked down though. Everything suddenly revolves around this one.

Drained. Tired. Ineffectually helpless.

This is a new feeling for me.
Is this another one of those experiences where you overcome it and become a
stronger person?

Through the fire
I’ll persevere
I won’t submit to any fear
Where I’ll go you’ve been before
All my trust is in you Lord

Hold me close, Lord. Keep me sane.

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All I need is you, Lord. Let me cling onto you as desperately as I may this week.

Care

You realize life’s many waves.

One moment you may be happy and carefree, knowing all is well. The next, you realize there are many shatters beneath the top; waiting to surface in those unpredictable moments. Why is it so hard for us to cling onto happiness and comfort?

Seeing you through the lens of this which I’ve called my own and destined for capturing those around me, I was happy. But as one retreated into the depths, there was no solace remaining.

Can you see? Or can you merely realize. Those who do not have, always pick out the gaping hole in that which they have. But those who have, never fully realize the extent of the value they hold. Lucky, aren’t they?

As the days go by, and the many setting of the sun’s, accompanied by the rises. Will I be the one who forgoes the desire that so easily roots and stems itself within me? Why do I let this pod take place, when I already know of it’s many disappointments and voids that it has frequented in the past?

Maybe it’s because my remembrance is fleeting, while my memories dwell. Memories that I let linger through the many captures that I take on a daily basis. Memories that engrain themselves within me, with the subject’s presence abiding; without permission, but encompassing reluctance.

He wanted people to like his mind again – after awhile it might be such a nice place in which to live.

This Side of Paradise. 

  • Fitzgerald

The mind is the dominating organ that intrigues me; above all else. Like a friend once mentioned, it is also the organ that can come to odds with your faith. Do you let this come between you and what your soul rests in, or do you choose to walk away? Isn’t it peculiar how one does not want to be questioned or left behind, but also cares for those whom she places her utmost respect in – to even want to obtain certainty from; those she realizes the displeasure that may result.

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Someone far and locked up, may you find your own

Remember

Remember who you found among those winding streets and chilly frosts of air that stemmed from your chuckles as you gasped and laughed. Remember who you decided to leave behind – not by choice, but by another taking the reins for you. Remember.

Stray far from that person who used to be overtaken by so many fears and anxiety. Forget those that wrapped their hands around your lungs. Persevere. Strive. Smile. Move forward. No, even run.

Jump and feel those wings lift you higher and higher up. Away from that which bound you before and realize you aren’t the same; and will never be again. Because you chose our Father. You choose, everyday – to let Him lead your every step. There is certainty in what He decides, and that is where your calming heart is planted.

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