Timeless Evergreen

 The drive up was always somewhat of a therapeutic ritual. As the journey commenced, the time felt infinite. Once the path took a curvy turn, you knew you were close. An hour, maybe two. You’d adjust your playlist; make sure your music complemented your perplexed state of mind with your picturesque and increasingly grandiose landscape perfectly.  What goes with nauseating anxiety yet undeniable exhilaration for what you knew you were about to uncover? Anything that felt intimate; anything that made you feel like it was just you, the trees and this windy road. Oh, the troubles of a teenage soul.

 That time had come. Time to return. It was never quite clear whether you were departing from or embarking towards home. What is this home you speak of? Is it not possible to have more than one home? May you possess many more! Or perhaps no home at all, simply belonging wherever you may roam, wherever you are drawn to look twice. Until of course the time comes when inspiration has grown stale and you must be captivated again. Forever a nomad. Forever in search of your new home. No, it’s not that black and white. We are hypnotized by our own doubts. We ask questions like we desire to know the answer, but do we? These questions are what make us interesting; what sets us apart. They are our rebellion; our freedom. They keep us alive. They make us feel real. But more than anything, they keep us company. 

It’s a deep taunting sea of grey we find ourselves living in. Whether we swim, float, or sink; our fate remains the same. This is our ocean now. Our world beams and flows the same, endless waves of grey

You roll down the window, pop your head out and feel the air getting cooler and cooler, the higher you go. The cold feels sharp against your skin, but you like it. For a moment you think you’ve sampled a taste of fresh air, only to be replaced by thick black smoke oozing out of the over-crowded and over-decorated trucks, swerving past you, at full speed. A courageous yet reckless joy ride.  You look up to the mass of trees lined up along your way. You feel small, but the trees give you a feeling of comfort, the mountains a sense of protection. Yes, I’m not from here but I belong here too. I found myself here. If that doesn’t make it a home, I don’t know what would. You want nothing more but to immerse yourself into the heart of the forest and discover a new path in the maze of statuesque trees. A magical alluring concoction of sage, olive drab, rich jade and smooth vibrant emerald green.  A viridescent melting pot. Oh the stories you must have heard, the scenes you must have witnessed. The life you must have absorbed. Tales of violence, of courage. Tales of beauty, of survival. A web of secrets, treasures you will never reveal.  This is where history resides. In the crevices of nature and the cracks of the earth. Timeless, evergreen. Surely those branches will carry me, sustain me. Surely a path will illuminate and present itself to me

The leaves intersect and overlap, creating a safety net where you release your queries, reservations, fears, shame, qualms, oh and joy, joy and more joy. You pick up where you left off. The branches sway in agreement and whistle back in reassurance. It echoes through the crowd of trees, bouncing off each other like an orchestrated symphony. You are not alone here. You couldn’t possibly be, even if you tried. What majestic beauty, a humble yet authoritative demeanor. The beginnings of a recipe for respect and trust. As faithful as a reflection, the trees lead you home. And when the night came and you could no longer see the roots, the dark yet defined shadows and faint faraway lights strewn across the mountains like stars reminded you, they were still there. They would forever be and always have been there. When the guidance of the sun has set, it almost looks black. It almost makes sense.

Stay back! Don’t cut me down! Go ahead, whatever ceases here will not be lost for even a moment nor forgotten but forever live on. For like a tree, your roots will keep you firm. Whatever may be cut down, chiseled out or carved away, can be reborn, grow again and be as it was, if not grander

Chaotic Gibberish

I haven’t always been who I am today. It’s a surreal experience when you realize, that moment you changed, that moment you transformed and recreated yourself has already passed. Perhaps it’s not a moment, but more likely a process taken over a long period of time. That sounds more realistic. I’m not so sure though. When I look back and think about where I was a year ago, I find a cheeky grin slowly taking over my face. Who was that girl? She masquerades as me, yet I don’t recognize her. Are they still called memories if all you’re left with are a string of images but none of the feelings associated or attached to them? It’s like watching a foreign film with the wrong subtitles. Gibberish. Chaotic gibberish. That’s what these memories are to me.

Who is that girl? She seems lost. I know why, but I can’t seem to remember that feeling anymore. I want to know what that felt like. I want to remember. I never want to forget. I can find myself caught in the rain; drenched, but I don’t feel wet. I don’t feel the cold. Is it weird that I want to be able to feel that pain again? That I want that association? That connection with the seemingly empty muted hollow reflections of my past.

Who is that girl? I want to know her. If I’m thirsty enough and I dig deep enough, will I find spring water? If I find her, will I know how to handle her? What if I never find her again? A constant elephant in the room. Although she finds home in my heart, I just can’t figure out which damn room. Maybe she hides, or maybe she’s constantly on the move.  Sometimes it’s hard to know whether there’s still something buried and boiling underneath it all or whether it no longer exists because you've evolved and overcome. I can’t assume one or the other. I can’t afford too. It’s easy to roll with it and not look back but just run ecstatically when you’re on a particularly good high. I’m not getting off this ride; I’m just stopping to ask for directions and to make sure I have enough fuel to keep me going. I will not be lost and I won’t be stranded. Happiness isn't something I chose, I felt happy. I continue to feel this way and I choose to stay on this path.

 But I want to know her. I feel like we can and should use our past, not lock it up and leave it behind. We are continuous, we are ongoing. We don't stop or stand still and start over, we are endlessly ever changing. We accumulate. We are all hoarders of our own thoughts, desires, fears, memories, experiences. You're not who you were or who you will be or even who you are right now; you just are. You are fluid. You are a stream and your rivers run deep.

I need to know her. There won't be any surprises on this trip; no blind spots or loose ends. I want the control.

Who is that girl? I don't just want to see you, I want to feel you.

Chaotic gibberish. 

_______________________________________________________

“Oh soul,
you worry too much.

You have seen your own strength.

You have seen your own beauty.

You have seen your golden wings.

Of anything less,

why do you worry?

You are in truth

the soul, of the soul, of the soul.” 

- Rumi

College

Everything was so new, so intangible. I felt safe in my room. My haven, my space. Every time I found myself feeling uncomfortable, I’d think about my bed. Every time I found myself unsure of how to act or what to say, I’d think about the liberty I had to be free in the privacy of my own room. I never had a place to call my own before. It felt mysterious. I felt like I had the key to a hidden world that I possessed. Everything that happened behind my door was my memory, my experience. It was my environment.

Everyone I invited inside my world had become a part of my story. It was nice to have a place to locate my thoughts. A place to fall back on. Security. That’s all you ever want to feel in your home. Safe.

I have felt it all. Or so I like to think. Or maybe so I’d like to hope? Sometimes I get triggers or reminders that lead me to look back on my life and I just think to myself; I have such a strange life. But then again, isn't everyone’s life just a different version of a string of strange, warped, random, unexplainable events? We never really know why, we just know what is.

I have tossed and turned. I have wrestled. Blood, sweat and tears. But I have felt pure joy. I have felt a love so strong it could carry me. I have laughed and I have felt complete. I've ordered enough pizza to feed an army. How fun that was, having someone to eat with. Having someone to  enjoy with. It’s funny, the only times I miss are the times we were doing nothing. There’s beauty in feeling happy in stillness.

So often, we’re chasing the rush. We’re chasing that feeling you get when you have energy to last you till the A.M and everything just flows. You channel the vibe. Your waiting for that moment where everything just spins around you, images you see become snapshots in your head, a montage of the night. Everything you say and hear is funny. Were you always this cool? Who knows, we never talked. Not until now.

But do we need it?

I think I like feeling weightless. 

Metamorphosis

I sink into what feels eerily like quick sand, I struggle and fight, but I get nowhere as I feel myself get sucked into my demise. I have time. Time is all I have. I reach out and I hold on to anything I can get my hands on. Something that will save me. Something strong enough to pull me out of this unforgiving black hole. Soon enough I come to the realization that I am just buying myself more time. There’s no saving me. There is no salvation. I am stuck, and this is where I will exist. 

I will never stop fighting. I will not quit. I will not give up. 

Call it determination. Call it strength. Call it human nature. I have stopped asking what or why. This is my existence. This is who I am. I am not determined. I am not strong, I simply am and this is who I will be. 

My stomach rises up into my mouth and I feel as if I were floating. I’m numb but I’m overcome by this tingling sensation. Is it hot in here? How can this be? How can I feel nothing but feel everything at the same time? I feel anxious yet excited. I am not moving but I am flying over your heads. I am soaring and you will never know it. You will never see it. 

My blood boils to the point till I feel nothing but cold. Icy cold hard shiny metal. Titanium runs through my veins like a beat that won’t quit. I cannot contain it. It only gets louder. I am metallic. I will transform, resist, adjust, create, amend, craft, distort, revise, withstand. This is my metamorphosis. 

Watch me while I pass you by

Murree

I walked through the halls, the walls felt cold, but the rooms glowed with warmth, there was a haunting darkness; a constant chill. A secret in the air. A story that lingered as we played our parts in the routine we called life. We lived with anticipation and desperate expectation; a nervous excitement that kept us going. A capsule tight shut; no one went in and no one went out. A dead end. Some called it family, others called it a community. I called it a black hole. A vacuum; a vacuum that sucked out any original thought or genuine feeling. Am I wrong because I am not moved by your hypocrisy. That I’m not inspired to be a phony. I retreat, and I smile to myself. I pity their naivety and inability to discover their individuality; their spirit. I want to tell them. I want everyone to know. But it’s not safe, is it? They never let you forget whose presence you are privileged to enjoy. To be blessed with. I replaced their broken record with some choices of my own. I let it play loud, loud and resilient. I had something they didn't have. I had something they wanted. I was not afraid of my doubts. They had something I wanted. They had trust.

A lonely moment turned into a quest for fate. The next person I saw would be the one I would turn too. The one I would share my thought life with.  We’d poke a hole in the bubble everyone had caught themselves in. We’d save them. We’d change the course. So much wonderment; so much hope and passion. Our minds were the only things that could run free. No one could judge us there.

The wind blew through my hair and the chill made me hold my breath. I was amazed by what I saw. A vast body of mountains; perfectly aligned in a hypnotic sequence. So much depth, so much life. As I looked over the horizon, the sky bled violet, crimson and sapphire. The last ray of light shot through the darkening sky. For a moment I felt the last bit of warmth on my skin; I shut my eyes and  I could breathe again. In that moment, nothing else existed. As I opened my eyes I watched sun go down and the landscape disappearing into the night. What is this place, I’d ask myself. What a gem we have uncovered. I delighted in the fact that I knew, if I’d raise my hands out on to each side and just let go, the mountains would catch me. The trees would take me home.

But then I’d turn around. I’d open the back door to the dining room table and walk through towards the hallway at the foot of the staircase. I’d take a moment just to listen; to see if I could hear anything.  I’d hear doors slamming and people laughing in the distance. I held my head up high as I walked up to the dorms and I’d slip into my room way after my curfew; trying to go unnoticed. As I lay  my head to rest, I’d find peace as I knew and whole heartedly believed, that I’d see the next day turn into night. And I wouldn't miss that for the world 

This Is A Man's World

Power, Entitlement, Pride

What you think you have

Shame, Pain, Damage

What you think you've caused me
Strength
My secret weapon

Truth

What I hold on too 

Where the heart lies

How much easier would life be if you could control your feelings? How many times have your heart and your mind struggled and wrestled with each other? In the end, doesn’t the heart always win? I guess our minds help us not to be a slave to our wants and desires. Our hearts don’t always steer us the right way, but its power is undeniable. We’ve heard it all before, the heart wants what it wants. But what does that really mean for us?  Does that mean we should just give in to our impulses? Or will our hearts eventually catch up with our minds? Why are some strongly influenced and driven by their feelings and others seem to have a strong head on their shoulders? Does it all come down to balance and control? So many questions J  I don’t know the answers, but what I do know is to never underestimate what your heart tells you. Just because you may not get what your heart wants doesn’t mean it’s not right. Sometimes the world gets in the way. Whether it’s certain circumstances or other people that don’t allow you to pursue what your heart wants or tells you, that doesn’t undermine or devalue it. It means something.

I’ve been thinking lately about disappointment. I’ve realized that although disappointment is such a defeating and helpful feeling, there’s empowerment there. I think you can take comfort in the fact that you put yourself out there and did all that you could. We live in an imperfect world where with every defeat there is room for victory. When you feel like you’ve lost more than you’ve won, don’t lose heart. Think about all that there is still to gain. In the end, don’t give up, because in some shape or form, eventually, I believe you will get what you want.

I wonder though, do we keep trying because we all want to be better or is it because we are better? I’m leaning towards the idea that we are better. So do yourself justice and be the best that you know you are.