it's
not enough
and
it
never will be;

but
it's never wasted
and
won't soon
be forgotten.

Its such a funny thing, isn't it? They can mean anything and everything under the sun as long as you have a different perspective on them. It could be work or exercise or mental stability or social life or family or whatever can be done.

But in the end it all seems to boil down to one thing: happiness. That seems cheap and simple, but its true. The only complex part is the balance between long-term and short-term happiness choices to work towards actual happiness.

Long-term obligations that you care about tend to not always make you happiest in the moment, but if used right, can make you so happy for far longer. And the opposite is true for short-term. Quick happiness traded for possible long-term pain, if abused too often.

No matter how spontaneous I enjoy life and how scared I am of that, it all seems to boil down to that one word. Balance. It never seems that anyone can or should ever completely erase a habit or trait from their life. Its finding a balance to sate yourself without killing it in the process.

This week has felt comforting and strange and new, but also very oddly omniscient, almost like a social experiment where I attempt familial relations. Good job team, this week has been a success. You can all go home now.

Obligations can be boring but important, and seem frivolous but be important as well. It depends on you and what keeps your boat afloat.

Life is strange, but its interesting to observe it and learn it and try to figure out just exactly how to live it without being hurt. And honestly there is no fool-proof way, but for now, a sense of balance and working towards that seems good enough.

"I am invincible."

This, I am echoing,
while picking the shredded
pieces of me.

I will rebuild myself,
with a self-worth relying
not on the pillars of another,
nor shall I stand on the
opinion of anybody.

But every block
piles to put up the
very essence of me;
vulnerable but kind,
strong but sensitive,
decisive but gentle.

And nothing or no one
shall be able to ruin me again,
because I had been reconstructed.

And because my groundwork
is not hatred,
but love.

Love for myself.

-qyf

Someone had to say it.
That gray area between black and white is so full of those lost in contemplation.
Without a doubt,
someone had to dig the moat that divides this sandcastle from the ocean.
The goal isn't to keep the water out,
but to let it surround us in a symbiotic relationship.

Someone had to do it.
Allow the sun to burn their skin in order to determine the value of a brand new tint.
A stint of concentrated consternation never did anyone no good.
Someone had to bite the bark to test the quality of the wood.

Somebody, somewhere,
traveled through light years just to glean a glow on a mystery that had always been misunderstood.
Someone had to go there first so that the rest of us could know.  

So here's an ode to all pioneers;
the bravest,
and most bold.