I wish you knew how much I would punish myself before you hurt me. I wish I knew how much pain it would all be. For me to say I knew better would be a lie.  What I did was for the better. Just not the better outcome.  I think about you sometimes. In fleeting moments. Sometimes when I'm hoping life is good for you. A sort of bittersweet.  I wonder how I would feel if you find that person I hoped to be. For a long time, the idea of a door closing sounded unbearable.  I guess that just means I've been holding onto an imagined something. A metaphysical attachment to you. No one tells you how hard it is to wash away a mark left by people you encounter in your life. It feels impossible at times. It's this repetitive thing. Like OCD minus the comfort of aligned. I think moving on is realizing that perhaps, you weren't really washing them away. You were learning to live with it.  I'm going to move past you. I keep waiting for you to realize that its been me this entire ...

I think I'm the type of person that notices everything. 

To have that drive that you can lose everything at any moment in a place full of opportunities. You can truly make it.

Sometimes, I think about this hypothetical person who knows everything about me. I hope that person smiles and loves me in all of my faults and shortcomings. 

I have something a lot of people covet. I never really thought much about it because I thought it was this common thing for everyone. I have the ability to love and to genuinely mean it without expectations of anything in return. I'm able to reflect the love I give to people and to myself. Is that not amazing? It's bewildering to think that a trait like that, a trait like mine, is not innately embedded in every person. 

The fact that we are trying is what matters. 

My loneliness always creeps up on me. I have always felt isolated by the world. Sometimes, I fault it because I can't empathize enough, or maybe I lack social skills. Lately, another thought has crossed my mind: Maybe I'm just too different from other people. Getting along is not supposed to be this internal battle with my mind where anxieties and overthinking collide. Maybe I exist to be alone, not because I like being alone, but because there's a naturality to it. By nature, I'm just not like them. To enjoy them is to be like them and to deny me. I don't want that. 

I often wonder what healing means. To heal in its most superficial meaning, and to what most people believe, is to restore how things once were. To be as pristine, porcelain, and undamaged. In time, I learned that healing is less about regression and more about progression. Healing is a process. Healing is building callouses. To heal is to become more resilient than you once were. To use all that pain and anguish to build a better you. Healing is about learning and ensuring you don't fall victim to the same things that hurt you. Learning to avoid the same flame that keeps burning you. To resist a cycle of torment. Knowing when to say 'a flame like that is better left alone'. There are a lot of factors that will blind you to the truth of things. Healing is about opening your eyes and finding an objective perspective on your well-being. On everyone's wellbeing. You, the flame, and the noise. 

I don't know if everyone is unaware of or is avoiding it, but classism is evident and ingrained in the lives of so many people. Classism, on the most superficial level, is what I hate the most. Anyone can dress the way they want, look the way they want, and present themselves the way they want. Who is anyone to judge other people? It irks me. I have always believed everyone is equal in the barest of it all. 

 I have set myself free. 

I don't know if everyone is unaware or is avoiding it but classism is evident and ingrained in the lives of so many people. Classism in the most superficial level is what I hate the most. Anyone can dress the way they want, look the way they want, and present themselves the way they want. Who is anyone to judge other people? It urks me. I have always believed everyone is equal in the barest of it all. 

I am blessed to be living such a great life. Today, I went for a hike around the local neighborhood on which I am having a vacation. Poverty runs rampant, and people are too oblivious of that fact or have maybe accepted how thing are. I felt deep sorrow for the generational prison people live. 

I had a dream you were making music. I saw your face, something I haven't really seen in while. You had an expression, I can only describe as child-like gloat, shy, reluctant, and proud. You sung the most beautiful acoustic tune. I heard your voice, something I haven't really heard in a while. To say I was surprised was an understatement. I thought that forgetting you was the step to move forward. I guess not. It's about ensuring I can still care about you, despite all of the bad. 

I'm strange in that the way my brain processes all of my difficulties is through a conglomeration of them. I have these convoluted dreams where all of my worries and emotional damage come together to form a giant monster of a nightmare. I guess in some act of mercy, my brain tries to confuse itself with this strange concoction to the extent that my confusion allows me to address my problems in incremental doses. Eventually, like bad-tasting medicine, I'll feel better. 

I'm learning that a lot of things can disrupt my peace, but there are also a lot of things I can do and put in place to ensure I keep it.

The human consciousness is an endless and boundless existence; and it's vastness grows more evident as you delve and explore. 

More and more I get in awe of how vast the world is. There's only so much of the world we can see with our own heads. Imagine having that collective scope to just admire our beautiful world. How amazing that would be. 

Remember that your company is a privilege. In that way, live your life full of joy. Want to be somebody who gravitates others towards you. 

I abandoned my art account because it needed a more meaningful purpose. I felt that my art added very little to this circumstantial world we live in. I realized that for creativity to bloom, I need to change the narrative. I need to paint not for just for myself but as an act of love for others. My creativity is an act of altruism, a chance to uplift people. Starting now, I'll paint for the world. I'll paint for other people. I'll paint for unconditional love.

 When two souls are meant for eachother nothing came keep the apart. It could all be that our souls were not meant for each other.

A person brimming with love while surrounded by love achieves incredible feats. Once we're surrounded by love, our impossibilities become manageable challenges. Be a person who loves—for yourself, others, and progress.

You know I'm not perfectly out of reach. Just reach out your hands. I'll hold onto you tightly. I'll make every moment full of love. 

I feel a constant need to be exceptional otherwise I feel like the world will chew me out, and I'll just cease to be anything worth caring about. 

Everybody is so preoccupied with something but me. I feel like I'm just wasting away in time. I feel like everything I do is unimportant. I want to care about things like other people. I want to be busy like other people are. One of these days I hope. 

Time has always been my friend because I give it many gifts of reflection and self-improvement. Time made way for happiness.  I wonder if time was a friend to you as well. I see you; all I sense is defeat, humility, and sadness. I know I changed you. I know I'll be a memory that lingers. A permanent pain in your heart. A bittersweet sensation on your tongue. All the malice you directed has backfired, accelerated by my burning passion for retribution. I am damaged—all of what I thought I had hoped for.  What I feel is inconclusive. A part of me wants you to suffer for all the times you occupied the space in my mind meant for joy. You should suffer for that. Feel everything that I felt.  To be sad for you when nobody was sad for me. What I feel is inconclusive is the question of empathy. Is that a grace I can offer to someone that betrays me?

My cup is empty, and I feel hopeless that I will never be able to fill it up.  

It feels so good to just lounge around and do absolutely nothing sometimes. To not think about anything and  just relax is bliss. 

I can't help but think about you from time to time.