It feels nice to give.
Today I bought my friend a box of doughnuts. He’s been stressed lately, and I wanted to see him smile. It’s nice to see a smile on a friend’s face, without wanting anything in return. There is no better feeling than lighting up someone’s day.
To give is to gain so much more.
The ocean has a strange nostalgia about it, don’t you think?
When we’re sad and alone, the ocean is where we go. It’s as if we somehow know that the waters hold secrets that we will never be told, and has answers to the questions we try desperately to find in footpaths and sidewalks, under shadows of buildings that were built to keep us out.
When we’re happy, the ocean takes snapshots, keeping memories of a time not-so-long ago, when we danced in the shallows as the sun bounced off the surface like diamonds.
We seek the ocean in all its glory, as a comfort through the storm, and a friend in the summer. Because the sea never leaves, it always comes when we call on it.
I wonder if you think of me as much as I think of you?
You know more about me than you even realise. I wonder if you know that. I wonder if you realise how much I’ve let on – how much I’ve let you in. It scares me to think that something so important to me, might be wasted and thought of as unimportant to you.
I guess that’s the eternal price we pay for letting down our walls. We wonder how much we should have said, and how much is truly taken in.
I asked the psychologist once, why I couldn’t feel anything.
She said to me that it wasn’t that I couldn’t feel anything, it was that I had to feel like I was in a safe enough environment to let my walls down before I could allow myself to feel something. Because I had spent so much time not feeling to survive.
I thought about what she said and I still think about it now. Sometimes I can feel my walls slowly crumbling when I’m around certain people, and it makes me nervous.
Surely, any day now, safety will come and I will feel something again.
Everyone has a different version of us in their eyes and their hearts.
To your boss at work, perhaps you are smart calculated and well-dressed. To your friends, maybe you have a nice car, a nice house and your kids go to a nice school. To you partner, perhaps you are too quiet, you work too much, you’re always tired…
We have multiple versions of ourselves floating around in the minds of others, but at the end of the day, we need to decide what we want to look like.
Do we want to be the person who cared more about their clothes, than clothing the poor?
Do you want to be the person who had a nice car, or the person who helped someone who’s car broke down on the side of the road when everyone else just drove past?
Do you want to go to a church that preaches about ‘loving thy neighbour’, but not a single person in the pews would look twice at a homeless person on the street?
Who we want to be is a direct reflection of what we will be, in the minds of the people around us.
I wonder what the world would be like if we looked in the mirror and didn’t see our physical reflection, but our internal one.
If appearance, social status, money or beliefs didn’t matter and people could see you for who you really were. Could any of us say that we liked what we saw?
Could we justify the amount of time we spent trying to keep up appearances, or wasted on people who didn’t care about us? Could we justify the things we bought to look smart, or cool, or well off? Could we justify what we believed in, even if it meant condemning people, when it’s all said and done?
Would you like what you saw, if you looked at yourself from the inside, out?
I feel sick of feeling nothing.
Not feeling things used to helped me survive. But now, my survival is dependent on my ability to show people how I feel. But how do I tell them there’s nothing to show?
I try and get through life as logically as possible, but people are starting to notice the cracks in the walls that logic can’t fill. Where love, affection and tears are meant to glue the gaps together, for me, there is an emptiness, like a room filled with echos, engulfing me.
This emptiness is a reminder of the darkness I carry, that won’t go away no matter how much I wished it would. It sits quietly in the passenger seat, throughout my journey, nervously twitching when I get too close to anything.
People act like existing is our default state… But I feel like our default state is actually not existing. We are here on this Earth for a fraction of a second, and gone for an eternity.
We’re all held by the same constraints of our own mortality. We are so quick to forget how precious our time is. One day there won’t even be any humans left. No one to remember us, no one for us to remember.
We all walk around with that knowledge in our hearts and minds. The only thing we can do is exist while we have the chance, and make existing for others a little less daunting.
It’s such a nice feeling being understood.
It’s hard finding people in a world full of humans, when the most human souls aren’t always people, and people are sometimes inhuman.
Understanding is when the silence as you sit next to someone is just the right kind, and the sentences they finish are said in just the right words.
A true friend never gets in your way.
You can be friends with someone, and go for long periods of time without seeing them. That’s not important. What’s important is that you’re there at the right times, and for the right reasons.
Friends are the rare people who ask how we are, and actually wait to hear our answer.