Your heart never hardens from pain,
Your eyes never glaze over in apathy,
Your stomach never aches with regret,
Your mind never dims from complacency,
Your body never withers in embarrassment.
Most of all,
I hope your soul never forgets
Just how connected we are.
You and I are quarks.
We’re subatomic particles,
Never found alone,
Have to be with another.
When you pull us apart,
The bond between us grows stronger;
We snap together with such ferocity,
Heaps of energy buzz between us.
The more I try to ignore it,
The more it sparks in my mind.
What I’ve failed to mention is:
When quarks do break apart,
They instantly find another quark to join.
Maybe that’s why you’re with her.
Maybe I’m not a quark at all.
I hold tight to dreams of the past,
And all of the hopes I‘ve amassed,
They strangle present ambition,
And kill my future volition.
How long can dreams possibly last,
Before my life must be recast?
One of my favorite concepts I’ve ever learned is the the importance of having a wide array of roles with which you identify. In this video, I use a favorite childhood game to show how diversifying your identities will help you have a more fulfilling life.
We spend our lives on a tightrope.
One side is dying without finding your purpose;
The other side is finding it and ending your quest of discovery too soon.
The problem is we often lean over too far,
Grasping at possible answers.
We do this because we think we need a purpose to continue walking.
We forget the reason we’re walking is because we don’t have a purpose,
The reason we haven’t fallen is because we don’t have a purpose.
Victim to my dreamy disposition;
Stunted by all my hopes and ambition.
I trot past the traditional stables,
And snub lies of my favorite fables.
While hidden in shadows of akin minds,
I explore all that my fantasy finds.
Until I awake to a terse decree,
Proclaiming insipid reality.
I did not know it then,
At the lake,
Beneath the stars.
Too consumed by fireflies,
That darted between us,
Illuminating your face,
In quick flicks of neon.
I wish I could replay that night,
On a big screen,
Alone in a theater,
Over and over again,
Until I remembered:
But we seldom realize in the moment,
That this is our last moment.
It’s tragic irony,
That the most important last moments
Are also the most mundane.
We focus on fireflies,
Not on the person we love,
Not on the person we will never see again,
Not on our last moment.
Because we do not know it then.
I try to quell the throbbing in my throat,
The one that beats with a jagged rhythm,
Like a drummer sitting on my windpipe,
Thrumming a muddled song.
He starts without warning, without proper reason.
Always waiting in the wings,
For his captive audience.
I wish I could ignore him,
Or abolish him completely.
But for now,
All I can do is slide down a white pill
Ending the show,
Before it builds to a symphony.