It didn’t make sense to me; like the fact that you decided to buy fake glasses when all you need to do is update the prescription on your real ones.

But I understand.

You wanted a new look, to try something different, without the worries of committing to something so serious; a path that seems to go only one way.

And wanting to test the waters doesn’t make you a bad person.

Because in the past months, you have had the taste of sweet freedom.

And damn. Doesn’t it feel good to live for yourself?

As for me, I desired knowledge.

To feel so close, yet still somewhat disconnected, I wondered what was going on.

I wondered what could be, because I always wonder.

And that’s the thing about me: my curiosity about the world is what keeps me alive.

But it is also a hindrance because I know that curiosity killed the cat, & this cat overthinks & feels all too deeply.

But a cat has nine lives & I am not dead yet because I am meant to chase the mouse that is my dreams & I am very, very hungry.

And you also understand.

I am grateful that you aren’t going to take this conversation & walk out of my life because you feel uncomfortable.

I am grateful because, around you, I can be raw & unfiltered.

I am grateful because you are honest.

I am grateful because you remember the details about me that people usually pay no mind to.

I am grateful because you stimulate my mind & provide me with conversations that I wish could last forever.

I am grateful because you travel far & wide to see me.

I am grateful because you are always great company.

I am grateful, because all the care I’ve ever put into others, is now finally being reciprocated in the same dynamic.

And I’ll admit that it was confusing; I’ll admit I found it strange.

You’re different; you truly are a special one.

But you are just a friend, & if this is what friendship is, then the world needs more good-hearted people like you.

I am not mad, & never could be, for many reasons that I could list, but will refrain from doing, for that list would probably be excessive & disorderly.

But no matter to that.

I am blinded by love. Not for you in particular; I just naturally fall in love with all of my surroundings.

I try to see the good in everyone & everything.

And there is so much good in you.

Things were blurry, but now I have the lenses to see things clearly, & I could not be more content.

I could not be happier to be so blessed with such a close friend near & dear to my heart in the time that we’ve spent together.

So thank you, for being a weirdo in your own right (although you disagree), because I’m a weirdo too & I think that makes our friendship all the more better.

I hope this lasts a lifetime.

Thank you, for giving me clarity. 


Why I Write.

I am not usually one to share my writing to anyone, lest it be posted on this blog or for a school assignment, blah blah. But just recently, I had a friend of mine read a piece from the notebook I started keeping. He asked me if what I wrote was inspired by things I actually experienced in my life.

I thought about it and the answer to that question is “yes.”

I write because I can never properly formulate the words to exit my lips as elegantly as I am able to do so on paper. Though the sword cuts through the body and spews blood across the land, it is by the pen that the tragedy of war is remembered. If it were not written, then it could be more easily forgotten. For the blood is eventually washed away by the rain. And it is the pen that tattoos the soul with awe of how we are all connected.

For when I am in the moment, I cannot describe what I feel. But when I close my eyes and twirl the ink rod between my fingertips, it becomes an enchanted wand that allows me to repaint the memories and live again, whether in pleasure or in pain.

To feel.

And to understand.

That is why I write.

A Blessing for the Broken Souls.

Hello old friend.

I saw you walk through the door, but it was only when I saw you walking towards me that I really recognized you.

And I will tell you now that I was elated; I wasn’t feeling too well this morning, and the sight of a familiar face gave me a reason to smile.

It damn near seems like you’ve disappeared off the face of the earth. Every once in a while, I’ll see your tweets pop up on my feed, but your Instagram pictures are close to none.

As you neared my pew, I wondered why you decided to distance yourself.

Then you sat down next to me, and I knew why.

You gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek and when we broke away, I could see how tired you were. The lines on your face were more prominent; you had aged since I last saw you about 8 months ago. You aren’t even a year older than me, but I looked at you and saw a worn-out old man.

You asked me how I was and I said, “Good,” with a shake in my voice. I asked you the same and you replied with but a sad smile, whispering, “Okay.”

We didn’t speak much after that, and it was in that very moment that I found it extremely difficult to hold back tears. I had I turn away to wipe them from my eyes, but I knew my heart was breaking for you.

Your eyes were sallow, wandering off into the distance with some strange thoughts.
You didn’t joke around with me like you used to so many years ago.
The tone-deaf boy I once knew to never be afraid of shouting out praise, even though singing was not his forte, did not open his mouth once for a song.
He did not even open his mouth for a smile.

Maybe it was pure coincidence that you decided to wear a black shirt and dark jeans, but I could sense the lack of life in your countenance.

But that was months ago.

And you still seem to be away from the keyboard, but last I saw you, you were happier. So I hope that one day in church was but a simple slip in the road, and you’ve picked yourself up. Last I saw you, you looked better, stronger.

And that’s all I could want for my friend.

Because last I saw you, I could argue I was feeling the same. And in what, 4, 5 months time? I’ve realized how blessed I am and how much sadness should not weigh me down.

I am not perfect. You are not perfect. This is for certain. So I only hope what this new year holds will be the best we can grab.

So cheers to the broken souls that dance anyway. Happy 2015.