My Sun

When did you become the center of my universe? Or is the better question why? Were you born my sun, or is it that I stayed in orbit around you for so long that eventually you became the sun? I am tired of my endless spinning, aren't you? Don't you wish you could catch me and set me free? Or are your wishes more along the line of catching me and holding me captive? 

Do you like being my sun? Is that it? Do you enjoy the attention I give you? Do you shine brighter because I can't stop looking at you? Do you burn hotter because I keep warming myself against you? Are you a sun because I made you one, or are you a sun because I needed one and you became it? Do I constantly need something to fixate on to survive? Did you become my sun for my own good? 

Fine. Don't answer any of the other questions,  but answer me this. If I shut my eyes and blind my sight from seeing you, will your light slowly begin to fade? If I bind myself away from your warmth would you stop burning hot and strong? If I can control myself and stop spinning around you would you stop being the center of my world? 

What I am really asking is this; can I undo what has been done? Can I unmake you as my center? Can I take away your powers as my sun? 

Silly Beliefs

I believe in magic. That quality of magic that is so extraordinary because it's so ordinary. I believe in happy endings for all those little stories that make our big novels. I believe in good, and I believe in a cosmic balance that holds millions of contradictions at peace.

I believe in the dependency of joy shining after every sadness. I believe in hope eradicating fear and I believe in faith shoving the shadows away and filling every darkness with content. I believe in good being rewarded and bad being punished. I believe in patience and fighting, and I believe they always lead to winning.

I believe in ideals that some believe are silly and naive, but I believe nonetheless. I believe in good beating the bad and I believe that the sun will shine after every darkness and I believe that no effort will ever go wasted and I believe that long patience ends in miracles -and guess what? so far, it has, they have and my beliefs aren't as silly as some believe. 

Rabbit Hole

I fell down the rabbit hole. I wasn't looking and my feet tripped, and down the hole I tumbled and went. The fall put me to sleep and when I woke the world was not the world anymore.

I found myself in an odd little place where the laws of physics were bent and skewed. Right was left, and left was up and down was all around the place. The ground was blue and the sky was green and the clouds were trees and the trees were none. The lights were too bright and too dim and the sounds were so loud they were soft.

The doors were walls and walls were windows that lead to the sky. The roads went in circles and the circles broke and didn't break. The air was heavy and the water too light. The people had no faces and the faces had no people to claim.

And I? I was a mass of floating papers filled with words that made no sense. Among all the madness I was madder than all and the world of opposites was less mad than I. I roamed in a gait that was falling in steps and I ran with hands rather than feet. I swam on land and walked through seas and I breathed in sand that turned to clay. And then I fell and into the sky I tumbled and went.

Years had passed. The world had kept spinning while I was away. But I did not despair and nor did I care. I was back, and right was right, left was left and up was all around the place. The ground was green and the sky was blue and the clouds were unbound and free. I was home and I was I, and the world was it.

I Want to Write

I want to write. I don't mean that I simply want to empty my mind of all the words it carries, I mean true writing. I want more out of this hobby of mine and I want more for it.

I want to draw paintings with my words. I want to create pictures that you can see with your eyes using nothing but generic little letters strung together. I want those letters to dance to a symphony that is the sentences they make and I want them to merge together into a portrait with more dimensions than should be possible. I want all those wordy images to move against each other with the fluidity and grace of dense mercury.

I want my words to feed off each other and become more than mere words. I want them to say more than they were created to say and I want them to scream magic louder than voices were ever meant to scream. I want my words to be art and power intermingled into letters that hit you right in the heart of your soul and make you feel against your will.

I want to write so when you break the lines apart and see what ink made the words you find mind, spirit and soul. I want to write feelings as though they are a language I am explaining to the deaf and blind. I want my words to radiate passion and I want them to ignite inspiration as they burn through and through. I want them to scar their way off the page and I want them to leave irrevocable trace.

I want to write the way writing was meant to be done -I want to write art that inherently imprints change. I want to write. 

Let Go

I learned a while back that whatever we feel, we usually make ourselves feel it. If something feels difficult, yes the world might have played a role in making it feel difficult, but ultimately it's us.

We choose how to perceive things, we choose to hold on to our discomfort and we choose to see the negative among all the positive. The contradictions that we feel we usually bring to ourselves just because we can't let go enough to enjoy what our minds want us to feel and enjoy.

We have these ideas in our heads of who we're supposed to be and what we're supposed to be like. I hate comfort and human contact, I am strong and I should never fall apart, I am this and I am that. We hold on to those ideas so strongly -with everything we have and we bury those parts of us that need and want more.

And then when those tiny little parts that feel oh so much, and are hurting oh so much, and suffocating oh so much finally manage to break to the surface and make themselves known. We're too caught up with who we think we are to let who we really are out.

We find ourselves conflicted and we ask what's wrong, and all that's wrong is that we can't let go. We're in our own way. We can't break free of our ideas to let what is true come out.

But once you realize that's what the matter is, once you understand that you are holding you back, that you're the reason for all the conflict and all the contradictions, then you can slowly begin to unbind all those silly little ties and start letting go enough to feel what you need to feel, however way you need to feel it.

You have the power. The complete and whole power and you can break free of whatever is holding you back and you can finally breathe. All you truly have to do is remember to take a breath and feel the wind in your lungs. All you truly have to do is let go, and inhale.