We go to school and learn how to talk and act like robots only to leave school and try to remember how to talk and act like a kid again.
one plus one
is a neat sum
we don’t add up perfectly;
some flirt, some desert,
one plus none
doesn’t mean love
has left the equation.
Someone told me:
“I’m done being weird.”
i’ve felt the same. it’s not easy to feel like you belong when your personality doesn’t seem to fit in with the different groups of people you’ve seen and tried.
but I like those times - when you act weird - cause I get to see a side of you that’s honest and raw. it’s the only time I feel like I get a sense of who you really are, not a sugar-coated or automated response.
being true to you. that is what’s so beautiful about you. i know it can feel lonely at times, and i can’t tell you otherwise, but it’d be a tragedy if you never knew how much your weirdness (your realness) is valued. when you are weird, I feel like I’m actually talking to someone. I feel like my weirdness ain’t so weird at all.
the trick is to find someone just as weird as you.
tell me something you’ve never told to someone
I’ve been bouldering at UCLA’s indoor rock gym.
there’s so much problem-solving involved and really believing that you can do it. you can literally see the fear when someone is climbing and their legs start trembling or they suddenly freeze. it’s so beautiful to watch them overcome that fear when they reach for the next hold, stretching themselves thin and long.. longing for a good grip or something to make them feel safe again. it’s like training the mind to believe that you can do it, so you go for it—like ice cream. and when you get it, it tastes amazing. you feel lifted from all your troubles. even if you only get a lick—barely tapping the hold but then slipping, you still can taste a near victory because tapping it means you can grab it. and believing you can grab it is enough will for you to grab it. you’re only a step away. ice cream galore.
home has always been a strange place for me.
i forgot that i ran away from home in the sixth grade.
I had strategically planned it: How to get away, where I would stay for the time being… I stuffed textbooks and clothes from home into my backpack and rode the bus to school. Then I gave my belongings to a friend for storage keeping until I would go back for it. I did multiple trips. My mom thought I was crazy for bringing such a heavy load to school. The day I planned to run away was on a Friday afterschool. My friend had a getaway car for me, and my bestfriend came with me.
i remember what happened that night.
i remember how cold the concrete was, and how sitting next to you didn’t feel so bad. even though we were caught, having you beside me felt like everything was going to be okay.
how are you?
what’ve you been up to?
These are questions we hear in some form or another, and we usually reply: “Same ol, same ol…”
if you hear someone with this reply, then do them a favor and say:
"Tell me something you learned today."
There’s always room for growth and this is a good way to help people stay present and engaged with the world—in a world of great possibilities.
We live only briefly, almost too briefly to waste breath on small talk that doesn’t make us feel alive. Make that small talk matter, so that even after a brief encounter, you exchange a piece of yourself for a greater peace.
The more withdrawn you are, the more you withdraw.
The more you submerge yourself, the more connections you make, and the more you feel A L I V E
, or is that the case?
I’m hoping it’s a mental thing.
Maybe you’ve never seen someone cry,
so maybe I just need to tell you
that it’s 90 percent mental.
That I could easily get sucked into a dark and endless spiral and suffocate my conscience until my body is too heavy to budge. They can tell you to move and do all the things you need to do to be better, to feel better. Yet what do they know about feelings? Do they know you can’t move because it’s all in your mind? All they see is that you’re capable, and therefore, you should. There’s nothing I can really say or do to make you perform or feel better—at least not in the long run. The way you think cripples your legs and you don’t wanna get out of bed because there’s nothing to look forward to. It’s just one long lonely road ahead. You don’t even know who you are. You don’t even know what you want to do. Everyone tells you: “You should do [this] and [that]…” but it doesn’t matter to you. It’s just empty words. You don’t even know how to go about those things, and if you did, then what? It’s just one thing after another, and you keep hearing the same words: “You should do…” But you don’t really want to. Not by yourself. You want “you” to become “we” and you’re waiting to hear: “We should…” But it’s rare. No one wants to go out of their way to be your crutch, and so you remain a cripple. At least, that’s what you think—that’s what your mind keeps telling you. You don’t know how to break the cycle because… you just don’t. It’s just you. You’re alone on this. No one really understands, and even if they say they do, it’s not enough. It’s not enough that they’re not willing to help. Their kind words make you feel alive for a moment, but their sweet breathe leaves faster than you can cherish it. It’s not enough. Why would it be?
"I like to make my day interesting by acting like i traveled back in time, and it’s my chance to change EVERYTHING."