There Are No Accidents

A beautiful soul once told my sister, who passed it on to me, that "there are no accidents in the universe." I have always believed that every individual in our lives and all that has occurred has taken place for a reason. For the past couple of weeks I have been more aware of my surroundings, the people that are a part of my life, and those from the past who continue to pop right back up into the present. As cliche as this may sound, I am writing this because I just want to remind those of you reading this, as well as myself, to tell your loved ones how much you actually love them. Sometimes words may not come out the way we would like them to and in that case, a simple hug or smile can go a long way. It's funny how the world continues to test me and show me all different kinds of truths in the most interesting ways.

Last week, a friend of mine told me that one of her good friends passed away, Monday was my sister's best friend's one year death anniversary, and today I received a phone call from my best friend that had me teary eyed while I listened to her express the pain she was feeling when she found out that her aunt had died.

With all of these individuals in mind, I remind myself to cherish the time I have with those who are in my life because tomorrow is not promised. Death can rob the most beautiful characters on this planet and leave us questioning ourselves, "Why? Why him? Why her? They were so young! WHY GOD, WHY?" It is only natural to wonder why, but to an extent that one word can leave us in ruins. Do not question yourself why, but use your memory to appreciate the time you did have with that individual when they were still physically present. This sequence of events has left me with an even greater appreciation for life and for those who are in my life right now. Hug your dad, have a conversation with him, kiss your mom's cheek, embrace the little ones, laugh with your friends, and smile at those you do not know because they might cross paths with you once again in the future.

We may plan for tomorrow, next week, or next year, but life does not promise us anything. Those we see today, may disappear tomorrow. What we say or do next week, may affect us next year or further into the future. I guess what I am trying to emphasize is this: tell those around you how much you love them and show them how much you care because regretting the actions we did not take or words that were never spoken, will only kill us inside.

Use the present to make memories for the future that will not leave us asking why, but leave us smiling as we remember how we made our time with that person absolutely worth it. 

Today, Time Did Not Exist

While we were temporarily isolated from the outside world, simply hanging out in a garden sparked the inspiration to capture the timelessness that nature engulfed us in and the beauty of this October weather. 

Random Thought

The silence taught me to recognize the truth. 

It wasn't until I saw people, who mattered to me, drown themselves in the loudness of life that their actions became their words because no one would listen. 

The harder they tried to be recognized and the louder they spoke, the more difficult it became for outsiders to understand their intentions. 

Others could hear them, but never listened. 

Their last resort was to act out of the desire for attention and because their actions spoke louder than words, it was much easier for others to make something of what they saw with their own two eyes, rather than straining their eardrums attempting to listen to their story.

"What's wrong?" became the opener for their conversations, yet I sat their wondering why do we not ask what's right?

It's as if some only care when everything has been damaged and only a few are there when life is going well, but it is rare to find those who will help you mend the broken and be your support when creating a new foundation. 

It was the silence that taught me to recognize those who could handle the nothingness in the air and actually listen to it. 

I found the truth floating in the silence. 

Me, She, & Poetry

What we are never changes, but
who we are rearranges

just as often as the seasons change.

I've changed so much, I've forgotten what I am

although I've never even met

the real me at all.

I've fallen so deep, I cant keep track of what I lack

because stacks of disguises pile high

as I go through self destruction

almost every other week,

while I seek for

self foundation.

This daily concentration

leads me Elsewhere.

I mean, where else can I find Me?

I don't even know who She is...

Stop acting like you know Me,
when there's no Me

that has been constructed.

When the definition of

"self"

is published,

copywritten,

with all rights reserved...

that's when you'll deserve

to know She.

Show Me who or what makes Me what I am-
for what I am never changes..

I'd like to stop changing,

stop rearranging

the pieces of me

because I believe I am only ONE piece.

A masterpiece

of "self" - whoever that may be.

...

Dusting my shelves of history now,

the ongoing mystery has evolved,

been solved,

and discovered, uncovering the

"what" that is missing-

I am "what" you make of me...

I am poetry.

Chances

There's something about being on the top floor of a parking garage, on a chilly night, sippin' hot tea, and conversing about life that makes time sort of slow down. Listening to the rustling of the leaves on every tree branch hanging above the parking garage echoes in the emptiness, while a brief silence lingers in the air as we sit on the roof of my car thinking. 

"Don't you wish you could just go back and change parts of the past?" 

"No. What's done is done. That's what the future is for...to make things better than whatever it is that already happened."

Silence.

Our history begins to replay in my mind while I think, 

"I wish we never met. You mean too much to me now."

"I know exactly what you're thinking...just be patient."

A Poem From The Past

Loose Threads

I envy You because you've got a love that's unbreakable

and

I'm no where close enough to be capable

of

reaching out into some one else's heart and

understanding their soul

as if it were my own.

See, pieces of me have been sewn

back together, but still loosely hang

only attached by the threads that remind me

of past struggles, so I juggle

these obstacles on the daily

mainly

to keep this smile going

but,

I continue sewing

the pieces of me that remain

detached.

I wear my heart on my sleeve,

hoping to achieve

the search for Mr. Sewing Machine,

but so far all I've seen

is a bundle of Mr. Wrongs

that keep tearing these stitches apart.

So I continue to write -

I write

about Mr. Right,

trying to fight

the pain that lingers

and hangs by single threads,

but these bleeding fingers

continue to sew.

The more stitches involved

the less I am capable of

evolving into

the woman I am 

behind all these loose threads.

I envy You.