Learning to live the happiness life showers upon every moment :)
If it seems like everybody came out of 2024 wearing tiaras and sashes while the only thing which keeps you from being empty handed is a string of disappointments, you are still heard and seen. If it feels as if the best part of the year is its coming to an end, your feelings are still valid.
Read More ‘Tis the Szn: Navigating Anxiety and Depressing Feelings during the HolidaysIt is daunting to be eighteen,
To be an “adult” on legal papers
When you have the meandering mind
Of a teenager;
To carry the unrelenting boulder
Of people’s expectations on your
Bruised and bent shoulders,
When you can just shrug at best
On being asked about future plans.
And when I feel stuck in the doldrums of life,
When nothing seems to move anymore,
When I slip down the dark abyss of nothingness,
And my eyes simply don’t wish to search for the light anymore,
I take a breath.
I breathe in the air
That is moist with the tears of poets,
Ringing with the pain of musicians,
Whispering in my ears, the beautiful stories of many unpublished writers,
Live for the flowers you haven’t seen in full bloom,
For the constellations you aren’t friends with,
For the dance of the Northern Lights on the skyline you haven’t been audience to.
Live for the cats you haven’t cuddled with,
For the dogs whose noses who are yet to boop,
For the birds you haven’t chortled along with.
This and that are things,
And you are not.
You are the reason, the protagonist, the very center of this saga.
It’s for the Moon to wax and wane,
For the tides to rise and fall,
For you to love yourself
Even when it gets hard,
Even when it is blue.
Bestowed with a quiet endurance,
Armed with a stubborn will to be and to do,
You are fierce even when your heart is up in the flames
All former plans burnt down to ashes,
Did you steal your spirit from the Sun, little Phoenix?
With the lively words you say to the world, and the secrets that lie dead in your bosom,
In success parties and emergency meetings,
Between the pop of champagne and the tenth cup of black coffee,
It is you first.
There is beauty in the stitches that bind the split ends of supple skin,
And converge the otherwise parallel roads of life and death.
In the marks of bravery cradled close to one’s chest, guarding the soundly beating heart behind it,a heart that’s long immune to quakes of terror.
In the deep indentation adorning a rather muscled bicep and in both fresh and fading bruises, reflecting the strength channeled towards the struggle.
A rivulet of sweat rolls down your forehead, threatening to invade the right eye.
You huff and shut your eyelids tight, wiping it off with the back of your left hand and resume work.
Oh, these tiresome days!
Unending hours of sweltering in the enraged sunlight, bruised red and burnt brown from its fire piercing your skin.
You feel like you’d melt under the heat of the predicament, or perhaps, vapourise into thin air.
But, even with the looming possibility of a blackout, ragged breathing and shaking limbs, you stand there persistently.
Time ebbs away in the blink of an eye,
The harder you clench your fist, the faster it gushes out.
Call it the law of nature or a beautiful tragedy if you will:
It leaves behind a wet palm.
For life is an ongoing slideshow
And I’m trying to burn it in my retinas,
freezing fluid moments in the confines of my memory.
Tracing the rugged edges of the albums with my fingers,
I buckle in for a rollercoaster ride.
Happier You❤ 