I love.
You want . 

But life knows
How to make the world happen.

The future is just people dying.

When hearts live,
Words are happy and eyes are like better days.

Are you ever going to do things?
Maybe something real?
Make a home and a life to care for,
To carry away the time.

The body must feel
And the mind must think.

I trust that your lives are better on the inside,
The best are long and the worst are longer.

A place changes with years,
I hope...

A head is more than a brain.
It makes children into birds.
The mind is the past, a time traveler.
That kind of sad person that dreams things so human
Only to stay alive in a room, in need of a story.

I realize that you thought you'd exist,
But you're dying years ago.
You wanted the earth's history to lie beneath the sky
And touch your feet until you were old,
But it flew upwards,
I'm sorry.
You cannot have that, but you can have what you make for yourself.

My heart sits rotting away in a rattan chair
All the love and the people I long to be near
Progressively grow closer to one and other
As I slowly drift out of their lives
I will not longer be the lining in their memories
Not even remembered as part of their lives
Just a humorous picture on the screen
A name in a book dated "2011-2012"

On the other side of the country
my brain grows and cripples from
A lack of blood flow
As my heart begins to give up
And break down
because this distance is too great
and hearts only have so much strength.
But my brain stuffs itself with meaningless facts
and replaces the heart
with stuffings of leftover ******* from the 'elites'
and a horrid instability occurs.

False faces and shattering smiles
Can no longer be redeemed.
I am a new human
as this hole in my chest
is filled with hate and judgment
and my brain cries for happiness
but only receives E=Mc^2.
I am the ugliest human to have ever lived
The only warmth I can seem to find
Is when touching the broken heater
of this insane asylum.

I rejoice,
despite the fact I try my best
and the sky
continues to fall
and the world only gets more bitter.

Father calls to me,
Willing my brain
Handing me a hand-knitted heart
That pumps false hope and paper-mache dreams

"You will not survive, You'll never make it out alive."

Heaps of regret
Are staggered on every path I face.
I may as well die,
No.
I may as well do what i please.
why should I attempt to please those who will never be pleased?
I'm sorry that I am not sorry at all.

This troubled heart,
Now strapped to a surgical table
Connected by tubes to the welcoming hands of my chosen family.
Those who grew me from the dirt,
After i was dropped there out of the womb.
My roots were strong,
But my wings are tattered,
I cannot fly just yet.
But I was thrown from the nest,
And now I am drowning in the fiery depths of hell that were below.

I cannot make this decision.
Not because I cannot make a decision,
But I literally don't have a choice.
And my heart will only continue to die.
And soon enough I will be a carcass.

Inconsistency
a great flaw
that only taunts my frail personality
as I attempt to tame its wilderness
am i one thing
am i another
will i be succumbed to one life?
Only to live shielded by comfort and ignorance?
But if not to do that,
how will I live with broken boundaries
and no anchors to the ground
that my feet no longer touch?
How can I live as 7 million people
In one life?
But how can I live only as one?

I do not wish that my name be remembered,
but purely the things that I have done
and the things that I helped make.
For if I may change the world,
I hope only that I can change it enough
So that the future holds reliance on my existence.
So that humanity may be looking at the results of me
And the change that I helped make happen
One day.
My name is hardly relevant
And I do not care for its remembrance,
Merely the effects of its naming.
I care that there is importance
In the fact that the name even existed.
Not so much the name itself.
I care that it was necessary in the altering of something larger than even humanity itself.
But with so little time,
All I can be is curiously passionate
And hope that that is enough
To have done what I could have
By the time that my name no longer exists.

1917
1920
1930
1940
1950
1960
1970
1980
1990
2000
2013
short life
to make an impact
on this trivial human existence

long enough
to pull rivers of tears
from my unexpecting eyes

Waarom zijn je huilen?
Ik weet het niet.
Ik hou van jou.

I trust much too easily
Much too frighteningly
Yet, if I could only trust one thing
If one day I became a cynic and grew senile
If only one place i were to place my trust
Then I trust only Future.
Past is manipulative,
He has only false consistency
He tells my mother he will have me home by 12
And I find my self spending the night.
Present is only sneaky
And finds joy in the fright that she gives small children.
Not to be trusted...
While the Future,
The Future is noble....
I believe to be trustworthy.
Always pulling through,
when the Present is stabbing you in the back.
The Future will always be there,
Pulling through on the promises made of a better tomorrow.
The Future is a rolemodel.
Guiding the Present on her path to righteousness.
The only one I trust is the Future.
Even now, when I trust everyone.
I only truly trust the Future.
Because the Future has control over everything,
We can conquer everything,
If only with trust in the Future,
The Future can end this poem
however would make the biggest impac.......

I feel the turn of the earth
the earth that has me
this massive creature beneath me
Breathing
Running
Crying for help
I borrow her love
As she creates mine
I am made of borrowed thoughts
She has lent me her heart
She has shared it with all of humanity
But they take it as if it was all theirs
There is no kindness
She comes unfiltered
Opens her arms
They call her home
Yet they give her nothing in return for her undying love
She is a lost lover
Bruised and abused by unworthy
She has the moon at her side
He pities her
He feels her pain
He sees all the darkness that she possesses
As she hides it behind the suns mask
There is a story
Where eyes open
Can I wake you up?

I worry you will fall
As you teeter up on top of your insecurities
Stamping them with your materialism
"PRADA"
Attempting to hide them below your feet and beneath your masks of paint
Attempting to keep them out of frame, out of the photos, out of view,
But the photographs were over-exposed
And now your nakedness is only covered by your self-doubt
Your lack of self-worth.
Don't try to hide the tears you cry out of unappreciative sadness
No need to validate happiness
With crest whitening strips
Because all they do is stain your already filthy mouth.
Bleach couldn't wash the ignorance from those gums.
Your cavities sloshed with your parents Chardonnay
and chocolate fountains drip upon your white dresses.

I try so hard to remain kind
Remain happy
Remain real
When all I can do is laugh
And hope you understand
That all I am is sad.

There is only sadness
When the best view that I have
Is of your huge fake ****.

Im so sad and dead
But that makes me so very happy
So happy to be sad.

don't be afraid you're already dead

for he was not lucky enough for the train to take the other track
the pills were not vitamin C
the gun did not shoot water
and it was not, instead of him, me.

we are no longer the kids with capes crinkled in knots around our necks
but in their place are the rope burns of our selfish regrets

only attempting to rid myself of the crushing weight of confused sorrow
the dreams in my head have fallen to the floor
he placed his in patterns there

searching for adjectives inside a dictionary
where only nouns are found
lonely, the adjective being
the one word to describe this
is trapped in the moldy basement of a frat house

he taps at the window
sliding through its confinements
back where he was days ago
a silhouette of the clock

plucking at your hairs
chickens clucking that their scared
they keep changing this cyclorama
but it's always ripped and torn

walking into the abyss
singing his cares away
thinking himself sick
will we feel like this for the rest of our lives?

who owns this beating heart,
it seems to have been misplaced

you'd written horror stories on the sides of elementary schools
superfluous thoughts were rays of sunshine
that only cast shadows in your head

don't be afraid you're still alive

All I do is dream of the future and crave the answers
This is now the future I had once fantasized
I have reached the future
I have seen what has become of my 6 year old brother, now 18
I have seen where the world progressed
I see now the places my choices have taken me
I am living out the life that was once only dreamt about
I am part of the future now
We are the futures of our pasts
And my tongue is damp with the bitter after taste of this pleasure
I have the pencil in my hand
That is connecting the dots of my past
Forming the picture of the ever-coming future
As much as I want to rejoice with my youth
Tell me about all that is to come
But I know it will make no difference if I do or don't.
Nothing would go differently.
If I tell my past what is now,
It will no longer be exciting to experience
What was expected is only as surprising as you pretended it to be.
But now, these discoveries of this now present future
I see

THE OTHER HALF OF THE POEM IS A POEM

now eleven years later
the boy whose graham crackers were high demand at snack time
who sat beside me at the table and pulled giggles from everyones lungs
who drew the drawings of dragons and dinosaurs
With angels above
The boy who was the best things before sliced bread was even invented
who
held all the definitions of importance in his tiny first grader hands
when it came to my search for wholeness.
Had I known that
I would have done everything the same
and nothing differently
and everything all the same
and nothing at all differently
And loved him no less.

Raising a child is very relative.
People always want to be a good parent.
I say there is no wrong way to parent.
There sure are morally wrong ways.
But it's more important to think
You can't raise a child well,
But you can be raised well.
You could be the perfect father
And your child could still find ways to get ****** up.
And vice versa.
I know plenty of wonderful people who sprung from hell as a home.
I know plenty of awful people who descended from perfection.
Who a child is, does not depend on the means in which she was raised.
It is solely dependent on how she went about being raised.
You make your own decisions,
You become the person you want to be.
Your parents decide nothing but the experiences you start off with.
I hope to God that I end up with a good hijo
But if I don't I'll do my best to make them better.
But in the end, it's their decision whether they want to be better or not.

i have a brain
and i have a body
and that's really cool
because what i see through my eyes
and feel what i am
is not a brain nor a body
but a world that i created
a world of what i am
and that's what you are too
what the hell is anatomy
it is a lie
if we could only see with feelings
the world would be an inspiration
every life would be a galaxy
every person would be a treasure
so you can have my body
you can tear it to shreds
lock it in this prison
make it bleed, make it run
starve it and poke it
but you will never have me
because i will be years away
in my mind
gone with the universe
and the stars that died years before

I've always fancied myself to be a care-free person
I never  give a hoot as to what people think of me
I know that I  am good inside, if others don't I shouldn't mind.
But there are certain words, insults, and phrases
That I cannot brush off, with a HAH and a cough
Things I tucked away, sent to bed years ago.
But sometimes these self-concious demons
Get up to ask for water.
"You're so aggressive"
I am not aggressive,
But I am not a swan princess, do not expect me to be.
"You're such a brat."
I'm am annoying when I am,
But I am not a spoiled 8 year old.
"You're so fake"
I am kind to all whether I enjoy their company or not,
I do not gossip. ever.

Do not make claims about my being
I know my faults better than those who observe them
I am working hard at them, to be a better person
I do not need help
There is no benefit when hurtful words are expressed
I know me
You know you
Why should you try and make anyone better but yourself?
If there was more focus inwardly on being a better person
No one would be sad.
Or bad.
Or self-concious, not even a tad.

you are so young
so innocent
so naive
yet so am I
you have worlds of wisdom dancing between your ears
yet you see it for so much more than it is
you do not see the same world as many other children
yet you do not realize that your world is not better nor worse
you are not too mature
many are just too young
you maybe 26 in your 12 year old head
but I assure you
The average 26 year old
is not 26.
You are blinded by the little bit more you see
you feel as if the treasures you have unveiled within your mind
are the only treasures left to find
you have years to grow
to realize
that you know nothing..
I know nothing
I am selfish
I am dumb
Or maybe just happy
But so very dumb
we all are.
Einstein was only kind of clever
you are nothing
we all know nothing.
Humans are silly
childish
and those who invent snuggies and moonboots
have only found ways to live easier with our ignorance
I do not want to be part of this world
because so many have come to terms with not knowing a thing
they feel as if there is no reason to learn, if you cannot learn it all
but there is no life without learning
you would be a vegetable...like a carrot or a pea
yet, most people do not learn when they think they do.
You have not learned a thing
unless you have felt the epiphany.
or seen the shimmering glaze of the interior of your mind
dawned upon the realization of the words
rather than the dull incoherent idea of what the words "mean"
people are dumb.
Dont think yourself any wiser.

our entire existence means absolutely nothing
we are so perfectly trivial
there is nothing i can do in my short short life that is even going to make the slightest difference in the history of our world
and the history of our world means nothing in the universe
we know so much less than will ever have existed
i do not want to die
there is still so much more to learn
we will never know it all
the amount of information in all the human minds that have ever existed
will still amount to nothing
when the amount of things to know
is so large
i do not want to die

A sweep of a paintbrush
Is the only thing that could capture this angelic devil of a place
All that could create the crumble of this sidewalk,
Or the tickle of this wind and these stabs of sleet.
Or the dashing of the shadows by this Spring's happy rays.

All of this wonder and this common rarity
In this baby of a town
That cries to be heard and loved
For the mind that sits inside it
Wanting to be known for more than the just it's beauty of a school.
It sits as a daisy in a field of sunflowers,
Unnoticed until the ladybugs that fly from it are seen
Fluttering to great heights
Showering wonder on all the witnesses.

But what of the aphids,
The townies,
Those that call this home?
Do they get no credit
For building a life,
A family,
A dream,
Within this cozy corner of the country?

They see this place as home,
Looking at it with comfort and nostalgia.
It is their point B.
Their finishing line.
Or maybe even their starting point,
But still a place of birth.
Through their eyes,
These cracked roads and looming trees
Are glazed in memories
Of hopscotch and snowmen.
But no matter to whom, there is love and there is hate.

There are those who wish to flee this beautifully forsaken prison.
There are those who wish they had never been elsewhere.
To everyone though, there is beauty in it some place.

I don't really care much
For those who don't dare much
Who wait and wait and wait for their mommy to make bank
Your parents bought you a swimming pool
That's so nice
That's so cool
But the people who had me hopin'
Are the ones whose minds seem open
But whose open doors were merely murals painted on closed minds
Those are people I cannot stand and there are so many of them so many kinds
With so much potential and even more judgement
Or maybe with money and very little thought
I'm happy with my mountain streams
My 25 cent socks
And jumping off of rocks
I'm happy here
Where the sky is big and clear.
And I can tell you my stories
I can spill my heart on this polluted ground
But you'll need some more keys
To unlock all the doors
Inside of little big ol' me.
Millions of rooms in my head,
Filled with everything plus room for a bed.
Room 52, ***** and giggles
Room 103, the Dutchy
Room 3004, a room just for you and more
But there are parts of me
You think you know
While only 7 months of me you carry in your pockets
And will you see all 16 years and lives before? No.
Step down from your pedestal
There's more than your two eyes can perceive
You're not as great as you seem
These facts show, I believe,
There's nothing more right than for me to leave.

I have spent so much of my life trying to limit myself and say:
"This is who I am, I feel like myself"
But so much time trying to define myself to one feeling
was the biggest waste of anything I've ever had
and it had to be life that i was wasting, didn't it?
and I have wasted so much
like toilet paper
or my liver
or food
or space...
but my biggest regret is wasting my life
my time that is ever so short and precious
And I threw it away like the last piece of pizza no one thought they wanted
but I did want it
i do want it
I have realized so early in my life
that who I am is not one definition
and I cannot draw my own boundaries
Unless I am drawing them with a white crayon
on white paper
I am so many people and so many different feelings
in my realization
I am taking that pizza out of the wastebasket
(it's called that for a reason)
and I'm brushing off the dirt of years thrown away
And I'm going to eat my pizza.
Savoring every bite to the last bit of crust.

Without him
I have no morals
Without his eyes
I cannot see beauty
Without his heart
I have no home
Without his mouth
I cannot speak
Without his hands
I cannot feel myself
If not for my love for him,
I would not know a thing
About how the birds chirp
Because they have so long waited for the sun.
I would not know a thing
About how fireplaces and families warm.
About how God is not just a myth but love.
About why the children call my name.
About how to speak it myself.
About the drifting of eyelids when bodies are not yet tucked in.
Without my love for you,
My heart would have been broken long ago
and I wouldn't count as a human being.
Without you,
I would be nothing and no one.
Without you,
I would have died years in the past.
Without you,
My body and soul would have been defiled...
And I would have let it happen.
Because without you,
I would not know what it means to be worthy.

Thank you, Lord, for giving me him.
Not even mutually,
He saved me.

I had once wished there were stories and poems
written just for us
about us
I had wished there were paintings and things that people drew
depicting our lives
our hopes and dreams too
So that I could marvel at them
Marvel at what others saw in us
Embrace our being
Soak my soul in our story
Future and past
Then one day I realized...
I could write those poems
I could create a world for myself to sit in
Just for me
Where our lives fit in
Hand in hand
and I could write the story of us
just for us
And it made me happy.

i am not a definition.
i do not fit inside the lines.
i am not confined by one decision.
i do not belong to only one dream
or calling
or person
or life
or occupation
or belief.
I am not the same.
To be in this day
in my state of mind
is to be the sky
captured inside a bottle
It is not possible.
I have too many wants and needs and dreams to follow
I have too many lives to live
and I have no time.
I am forced into the border of a page.
Forced to be defined by one category
But I do not belong to one category...
I belong to all of them.
To everything,
to every bit of this world,
not half of it,
I do not pick portions,
I am not picky
I am welcoming to all of it
Why would I choose one thing,
when all is beautiful and very much attainable?

From night to white, winter's near.
Why do all the stars keep falling here?

I'm sorry, darling, but you're my second love.
I cannot lie to you, I love you less than one other.
The mountains have my heart,
But you can have it second hand.
Those rocks and trees were the first to caress my curves
And you were second.
That is a competition you will never win, my sweet.
My kisses belong to the ground below my feet,
While you will get soil in your mouth
When we smooch.
The animals of Mother Earth cuddled me
Before your arms ever warmed me on cold nights.
So when we embrace,
Leave room for my bunny to curl between us in bed.
The fields of powder were my home,
Before your heart,
And what's first your home is always.
So I hope this won't break your heart
...the fact that you are second in mine.
I'm sorry for the muddy kisses and the fur on all your clothes,
But I'm doing my best to love you both.
On nights I lie beneath the stars,
Don't yearn for the attention of my eyes
But lie beside me and hold my hand.
...Only one hand though, I'm petting the dog with the other.
Sorry....

There's more to this reality than this reality
So how can I sleep at night
There is too much to learn
And I am not content with not knowing it
I cannot live in such a world
Where I am not seeing largely
And people walk along streets living obscene lives
With no purpose and no curiosity for what's more
I cannot live a life day by day
When century by century
History is being made
And there is so much more
Than each breath is exhaling
Or each blink is hiding.
I need the cosmos
and I need the universe
Because it sits inside my head
Quietly
But now it yearns to be heard
It craves to be noticed
It screams to be discovered
And I can no longer ignore it
And go about life on daily terms

The bird
He flew high above,
My eyes only gleamed with desire,
With lust, but more so
with love
Of everything that bird was and would ever be.
His feet danced
Hopping only close enough to taunt me
Pecks touched my hands
All the way through to my heart
That bird taught me who I was going to be
That bird was part of me
But slowly as that bird flew west
Farther
Farther
Away....
I walked east on my own.
We flew opposites.
He was my bird,
He taught me to fly,
And so I flew,
And forgot of the bird,
But held inside me
Everything that was given to me by him,
everything was me.
That bird gave me life,
love,
happiness,
and we flew.
Opposites.

If you live to be ten,
Then kudos to you.
Don't expect you'll live forever,
Or that you'll have your bed beneath you when you pass on,
Or that your loved ones will be surrounding you.
Don't make plans for death,
It's going to come.
It's your call to say to yourself
I am going to die soon enough
Because you are going to.
When you realize that is the day you'll actually start living.
Some think that life's too long and they have no interest in it all,
Others go through life oblivious,
Thinking that death is a blip far away from the present.
Those are the ones who do nothing with the time they are given,
They always think they have more of it.
Spoiled,
We are a spoiled humanity,
Life is never enough.
Do not be spoiled.
How do we go about unspoiling ourselves?

The human brain is an awful thing to live with but it sure makes good writing.

I will be just as conscious of my existence when I am dying as I am now.
I am alive and I will still be alive when I'm dying.
At whatever age my body grows unfit to hold the thoughts in my head,
I will be just as alive
As when I was 15 on an airplane flying to a place I felt was home while listening to Harry Eifler sing:

Soon enough we'll be dead
Get it out of your head
Cause the waves crashed your beaches long ago

And when I'm dying where I'm dying
In the future,
My famous last words,
No matter how legendary,
will not be famous
or remembered.
Because the only words that get remembered
are from the mouths of those
who people care to hear.
I am not one of those mouths,
And my words will be forgotten
Just like my name by my great-grandchildren's children.
But despite that, I will know that I was still vigorously alive when I died,
And I will know that the last thought that my body could provide my brain
was the dreams of the broken hearts,
cures to the diseased,
secrets that are spit with giggles into hushed ears on playgrounds,
and the keys to all the locks in the world.
Just like every last thought ever thought by everyone who has died.
But no one will ever remember my attempt to say those secrets,
Because none of the trillions of last words in existence
were ever important enough
for anybody to care to listen to the whispers that escaped dying mouths.
No one cares to listen and that is why my words will be forgotten,
along with everyone else's.

The stars were startled awake by the thundering snores of the suns slumber,
and brought to being by the night.
They twinkled and bickered
They were ailed with the task of holding the sky up
while the suns eyes were set to rest.

You are my darling,
You are my sweetheart.
You're my love and your father's just jealous.
I can swoon and I can flatter you.
You're the reason the moon hides behind shadows,
Cause it sees you and gets self-concious about it's figure.
When you summit those mountains, you're the reason those fish swim upstream.
You pick those strings better than your brother picks his nose,
And boy does he do it well.
Rug makers idolize you because of how you weave those words.
The ebbing of the ocean is in constant competition with how you swim the tides.
And with all of your multitalented-genius
I wouldn't be surprised if you could calculate the coordinates of the sun while sprinting a marathon But I know you'd just find that
You are sunshine.
Watch out for those boys, chica, cause the line for you is longer than Gamestop's.
If you never understand how well you recited your ABC's that 1st day of elementary school,
I just hope you know...
You make the bees jealous, honey.

We go about each day, telling ourselves the words our mothers fed us as children, “You can be anything you want, you can reach heights unseen and untouched by any other being.” But we speak them in monotone, we see them without processing.  I played along like every other and chanted them with a smile but with no idea of the actual meaning and interpretation. I did not make those words mine, they were merely an idea; an unexplained, unrealized idea. But my eyes have opened and light has shown upon it and the truth to it. I can do anything and there is not necessity for schooling or to go to an elite college. I can do the things I love and with passion because I want to! The flaming passion that burns in my eyes spreads upon those who hear my words and my excitement.  I am seeing the world’s situation in large and each act and each rule and law as changeable. Revolutions and riots have brought change and the rules we live by and each thing we see as so common can be altered and flipped upon it’s buttox if only one sees the possibility, wants it, and speaks the benefits. We are not a perfect society. We are not better than the past. We are not lesser than the future. We are what we have and we have to live and deal with it, but that does not mean to be content with out society nor does it mean to over appreciate it. We can change and we will change. No one is content, and we must realize we cannot ignore the change or ignore the history being made. Do not sit in your homes huddled away and watch the news as if you are not part of it. Step out your door and watch as we create history and we decide what is the best that we can do to be able to do what we love to do as humans. We are so often restricted by society and it’s beliefs on what is acceptable and what is available. As a child we grow up and we see our options as firemen, policemen, doctors, or teachers and then as we grow up we keep our brains in this mindset that those are our options and then we get into highschool and start realizing we know of nothing, we don’t know our options, we don’t know what we want to do with ourselves. Then we say we have time, we say we can make that decision later and then we cruise through our schooling not focussing on anything and then keeping in our head the 5 options of life and occupations that were given to us when we were children. We need to not just tell our children that they can do anything and then give them a few options, they deserve to be shown throughout their whole lives what it means to do the things you love and are passionate about and not having to be pushed into a category of work or life that they “kind of like”  and think that’s what passion is because they haven’t experienced enough to realize what their possibilities are. Life is so much more than what we have built it to be as society. Life is not going to school till youre 30 and then doing work and having a family and going on a few vacations and then growing old with a person you hardly care to genuinely ask how they’re doing. We belong to this earth and I swear to God, I’m going to embrace this earth and frolic upon it’s soil until the day I die because I want to experience it all and I do not want to live in the confines of what society has confined itself to. The things you find social acceptable are your own barriers and the limits you are making for yourself, so do not bash another for going against the grain but applaud them and follow behind them and create your own path as they did. I’m done doing what makes me most financially stable or what the upperclass would respect me most for. It’s not like I did before but gosh ****, I’m not going to busy myself with other peoples fear of change and the unknown.

Having been long from your arms
And from your glances,
I have also been long from feeling.
I do not know
the flames of passion
or the airlessness of lungs
because I have had no one to steal the air from my body
like you did.
I forgot how to feel,
and all I wish for
is another,
(if not you)
that can touch my heart
and take my sanity.

I've got a sticky note taped onto the back of my computer from ages ago when someone put the ideas I'd been trying to express for months into words. It's titled in all caps--
WHAT JIM SAID
Like obviously with the power of perspective you can achieve happiness in any situation, but I would much rather achieve a state of happiness that just flows, rather than forcing myself to be positive. and like you, i think thats much easier to obtain in the right environment with the right people.

I've never met a Jim. But I still concur with him.

The only regrets I have are not becoming friends with more people.

I carry rocks in my pockets so that if someday I am to go swimming, I may be drowned by accident and the pure joy of swimming.

“Before I die I want to be married with kids before I’m 30.”
“Before I die I want to work with kids all around the world.”
“Before I die I want to be able to look back on my life and be happy.”
“Before I die I want to climb, ski, longboard, backpack, see the world, surf, and do it with people who make me enjoy it rather than put me down for not being the best at it.”
“Before I die I want to pursue my photography dream.”
“Before I die I want to love with all of my heart.”
“Before I die I want to be kind to everyone I encounter.”
“Before I die I want to travel to as many places as possible.”
“Before I die I want to have kids who I raise right”
“Before I die I want to marry my best friend”
Well what about before you live?
What are you doing now?
Waiting.
*Stop waiting.

I talked to an 77-year-old man who was washing the windows at Pizza Hut today.
He was young and so happy.
He was kind.
And wise.
He was rich.
He had no money.
He had nice eyes.
He was going blind.
He had a beautiful smile.
His teeth were rotten.
His name was Jerome.
And all he wanted to do was help people.
He taught me so much in 6 minutes.

I never understood the world or life or love of what any of it meant.
I didn’t want to write a love story,
But I don’t want to lie about the importance and relevance of the love I had for people.
My life was always centered around me,
Every time it would start becoming about someone else
I lost myself and those were the doldrums,
The droughts, and the floods of frustration.
But now out of them with a clear view looking in,
Those are the times I give my past self a candy bar and a pat on the back
Because I got through every ‘*******’ the world shot at me without killing myself.
I still owe it to him.
I owe so many things to him.
We had a strange relationship
But the oddest thing about loving him was that I never wanted to touch him.
With every crush,
Every love interest I’ve ever had
I’ve always wanted the warmth of their body around me and
The touch of them on me
And I would daydream about it constantly.
But with him,
I never noticed until now
That I never had an urge to touch him
And even more so I was mentally incapable of imagining any situation where he loved me.
That sounds sad, but I’m not sad.
I love him.
I love you.
I love his soul and everything hiding within his piercing eyes
And to a degree where there was no physical interest
Because in this day and age that physicality has been ruined.
Plagued and poisoned with self-interest and insincerity.
I didn’t want his body, I wanted his soul
And his heart.
But it wasn’t up for auction and was he wasn’t bidding for mine.
I dont care, none the less.
I know I love him because those mutual feelings dont matter
Nor  does having him as mine physically and mentally.
I’m in love with him because he doesn’t love me
And I'm in love with him because he loves himself modestly
And that he speaks his mind and there are no things getting in the way of his thoughts.
But also because of his ignorance and everything that’s wrong with him,
In all of his innocence and childish ways I love him.
And because he listens to what I care about
And because he doesnt love me and I dont care.
I love him because he makes me better,
Even if I never see him again, he makes me better.
He makes life easier.
He makes hope brighter.
He makes me love him.
But, I said I didn't want to write a love story...

Leaves were falling, crackling beneath the girls’ feet.
The sun peeked through the clouds, warming their faces that already dripped with sweat as they ran. Central Park folded around them;
With each twist and turn another couple was taking wedding photos.
Their laughter cascaded throughout the city, bouncing off the buildings.
The city was naked and new to her, a different world than her home in the Rockies.
They ran until they lost track of where they were running,
Finding themselves in a part of the city they had yet to see…
A completely different atmosphere enveloped them, and they ran on, smiling.  
Spontaneously, a café caught their eye and their stomachs pulled them in.
They sat with an eager plop, ordering simplicity and perfection in a meal.
They spoke of yesterdays and tomorrows,
Dreams and nightmares.
While they ate the meaty, juicy grapefruit and savored every last drop,
They realized how happy life was.
With a crunch of granola and a sip of coffee,
They paid and snuck their way out the door
Hoping the waiter wouldn’t realize they didn’t have enough money to leave a tip.
And they were happy.