Sit

How does one sit

and sit

and sit

waiting for something different to happen?

 

How would you

expect

something extraordinary

when the days are on loop

 

How would you

see something new

in an ordinary day

where nothing is different

 

How would you break out of the infinite dance?

Advertisements

Name

Hi, my name is _________ .

 

Is that who I am?

Can it be contained within that noun?

Would I be the same person with a different name?

 

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet”

Is my name an appropriate descriptor of who I am then?

 

Can that seemingly random combination of symbols somehow communicate something about who I am?

Is it able to tell anything about me?

 

What impression does it leave?

Why does it matter?

 

Sometimes, I don’t feel like what my name says.

I just feel…

Me.

 

There’s no name to my own consciousness.

It’s just there.

 

Sometimes, I can forget where I am.

I can forget who I am.

In that context, my name doesn’t matter.

 

I’m just a person.

Ode to Music

Melody and drums and bass and guitar, and techno sounds and all that makes you a masterpiece. The harmony that makes sense, the riff that’s random but perfect. The combinations that are one in a million, the voices that meld and mix. The notes that aren’t notes and need to be.

The lyrics that make one feel, that bring happiness when you want to be cheered up and bring sadness when you need to cry.

Music: you are perfect, and I will always need you.

Summer

Stickers on walls

and dancing in the halls;

the swing swaying the wind.

 

The walnut tree that’s good for climbing

and the ever so delicious dining;

the garden path waiting to be ran upon.

 

The trampoline that’s never used

and the sky all shades of blues;

the carpets on old parquet wooden floors.

 

The crumbling facade and the rose arch;

the hope that I’ll never have to leave.

Question

I used to have questions about anything. I looked at the world, and I just wanted to know how it all worked. Its wonders never ended.

Now, I probably don’t care enough to question every single little thing around me, because I was unfortunate enough to get to know the more harsh realities of this world. I learned that everything has nuance, and there is no straightforward answer to anything. There is no single reason why a person acts the way they do,

so it does no good to question it.

Want

She wanted nothing more than to be able to turn back the clock; she wondered when she had earned the right to deserve this.

Wondered why it had to end.

Despite what she said, she would miss it. She would always.

In the end she didn’t want to forget a single moment of it.

She wanted to stay in this time forever, but… she knew that despite what she wanted time would move on without her and if she didn’t catch up she would be left behind in the dust.

Story

Do you ever think about what your story will be?

Will it be important?

Will it be remembered?

Will anything you ever do make any impact?

One can only hope.

“Legacy. What is a legacy?

It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see

I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me”

~Some beautiful words from The World Was Wide Enough, from Hamilton, by Lin-Manuel Miranda (of course, who else)