Purple Rain

You think she is just a happy girl eating ice cream. She has a smile on her face as she walks through the crowd of happy people watching the outdoor concert. So yeah, you wouldn’t question where her smile stems from.

But there’s something else to her story, like there usually is.

She wishes her story could be as simple as it looks. She wishes that moment in the crowd was an easy smile.

What you missed was the person walking ahead of her, the person she was following. The distance between them grew. She couldn’t see his face, so she held her own expression. She wore a smile, and she remembers it felt good.

As his strides got longer, she felt more alone. But, she realized she was on her own the whole time anyway, so she continued to smile.

She decided to feel the grace of the moment around her. When she passed other people, she saw a joy that she couldn’t help but smile with. She felt the passion of the music being played on the stage behind her and she couldn’t help but sway with it. She had a smile on her face and as she looked at the people she was passing by, they smiled back at her. She was living in a moment, and it looked easy.

But the person walking ahead of her must have had a different determination. When she turned to watch a song that caught her attention, he didn’t follow. With a hard face, he stood his ground. Maybe it was because he couldn’t hear the same piano she heard when she was a kid and feel the joy that song always gave her. He didn’t feel the sacred melody that moved through everybody else in the crowd. Even so, why did he have to stay back?

She turned back to him thinking he’d be by her side, but instead found him 5 paces away standing there, waiting for her. She gave him a playful smile inviting him to join her, but I guess he didn’t see it. He only came up to her to tell her “c’mon let’s go.” She bit her lip, held her breath while she took a spoonful of her ice cream, took one more gaze at the stage, and turned around to go with him. It was the pivot of her foot that sent her in a direction away from that moment. But she didn’t protest. She took another bite of her ice cream and continued to sway with the music as she walked behind him. She swayed and sang up the steps, through the entrance, up the elevator, and to their door. She stopped when the door shut behind her and she found herself in the quietest room in the whole building.

He doesn’t even realize what he just silenced.

The man who walks ahead of her doesn’t seem to care. He couldn’t know her because he never turns around to see her.

He says she’s crazy.

He doesn’t know that is the worst thing she could hear from him.

She’s become exhausted, over time. Exhausted trying to show him the good, what she sees. She feels like she’s screaming at the top of her lungs, but no, she’s standing in front of him struggling to get the right words out. With him like this, her heart feels like it drops into the acid of her stomach, over and over again.

You see, it’s not an easy smile.

Wonder on

There are words that get overlooked when they stand next to the bigger ones of today.  When the verbs and nouns such as hate, revolution, change, opinion, media and news fill the articles we scroll through with negative connotations, when more than ever everyone seems to have opinions on topics with the limited knowledge of headlines, words of authenticity like hope, love, joy, and charity find themselves being swept under the rug society walks on.

Wonder is one of those good words, one that we don’t see much praise for. It has almost become something overrated in our world of “doing” and “making a change.” While it lays as the foundation of change and revolution, its authenticity gets lost in opinions, or more like the fear of others’ opinions. In conversations we often feel the need to have opinions, even if we don’t. Agreeing or disagreeing, having a stance on something without conviction, has taken the place of the vagueness that hope conveys. We rarely gives ourselves the step back to fully see a picture. We restrict ourselves to what is already seen, we forfeit original thought. And this gets us into something that is even more bleak than conformity. Because without wonder where did it start?

Wonder

noun- a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable.

verb– desire or be curious to know something. Feel admiration and amazement; marvel.

Like damn, marveling doesn’t happen often anymore. Which, is so unfortunate because marveling, the sight of ones jaw falling slightly open as one looks steady ahead with wide eyes, has a beauty to it that just can’t rival the tight squeezed jaw or open flailing mouth we see too often.

Wonder is where it starts. Wonder is what creates opinion. It’s what stirs thought, pushes for action, and creates a picture. The greats of our time, the revolutions that were rightfully started, began with someone wondering, being curious enough to delve, to put forth effort to form their own opinion and act upon it in hopes to make a difference. To wonder is to dream. To wonder is to hope. To wonder puts in action figuratively, then literally.

As a whole, I don’t believe we are all hopelessly lost, but I do think that we all could use more room for wonder in our life, our thoughts, and our actions. We need to know where it started so we know how it should end. This is where right and wrong come into play, and where the faded lines have crossed each other in unfortunate places.

Stand for something you know, believe in it, care about it, and do something with it. Big or small, we don’t have to be the face on the posters, but we can be proud of the ones we hang in our homes and still are able to marvel at.

Solid ground

Looking at yesterday, you feel it brush against you.

Its touch is sticky.

That’s where you stood, how you lived.

The moments that brought you to today, sting

Because to stand where you stand now, took courage.

To have courage you had to be strong.

To feel your strength you must have lived in pain.

Because when you look at where you stood then,

You can see the ice cracking under your feet.

To this day you can feel the water take your breath away.

That cold, that damn cold will always run through your veins.

 

Looking at today, you feel it lay on you.

It’s heavy.

It’s where you stand, how you’ve landed.

Yesterday may always sting,

But look at you now

Standing on solid ground .

Just another day kicking my own ass

I’m not one to use big words. I’m more someone who creates words and insists they’re real. I mean come on, funner has gotta be real. I get a lot of flack from that one—from not fun people I should add. Anyways, I do think it is important for me to become more aware of the real words out there. Especially when, ya know, I try to write. Which is why lately when I come across words that I don’t know the full definition of, I ask my Australian Siri Man. He’s useless for the most part, but defining may be his one strength. 

So being very transparent here, you might say I’m in a bit of a rut. Call it a quarter-life crisis maybe. Fitting since I am 25. Meh, whatever you want to call it, it resembles a ball sucking, ass kicking, and mind boggling time in my life. All we can do is live day by day they always say, so day by day is what I do. Great advice oh wise one—sheesh. But, sometimes corny obvious advice is what one needs. We overlook what’s in front of us while we’re searching for our soul in the greener grass.

While I’m off climbing yet another mountain to find my guru, I’m reading this book. It’s a very thick one, and it is taking me for-fucking-ever to read. It’s because I have to re-read every single paragraph this lady writes. Her content is so dense, so true, I want to fully understand what they hell she is really saying. And, you know, the whole making up words thing is just not cutting it for my comprehension. With Australian Siri Man to my rescue, I find a word that I didn’t realize describes my current situation perfectly.

Malaise. A general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify.

It’s such a vague word, and is the twisty tie holding my world together. It’s tied in such a way that when I think I’m untying it I then realize, nope, I’m making it tighter. So I go the other way. Over and over again. Floating in this emotional malaise while getting seasick over the raft I built for myself. It’s a constant itch as I try to keep my emotions in check.  It’s partly due to the fact of where I am physically, back at my parents house, cramming my stuff around Pokemon cards and remote controlled cars in my brothers old room. It’s also partly due to what I’m settling for. For the first time in my goddamn life I know what I want, but yet I feel like I’m holding sand in my hands. Following the heart is a devastating path. It’s hard, it’s fucking hard. But, for some ungodly reason, it’s still all I want to do. And settling, oh it’s killing me. More so making me feel psychotic. Temporary is what I keep telling myself, it’s all temporary. This emotional malaise, this overpowering general feel of uneasiness, is challenging me to ends I don’t know how to meet.

Drastic moves is what will come next. I can feel it climbing up through me. After such contemplation, over-analyzing, and self scrutiny, I know in my bones who I am. And drastic is something I do. Once I make a decision, it’s made. There’s not even a chance for me to talk myself out of it. A very large fault of mine, I know this, but at the moment I’m going to see it as an opportunity. An opportunity to go after my instincts, to feel in my gut what my heart wants, and let my head actually create something sustainable.

…and it’s going to be funner than anything else.