I’ve dreamed of a place where I can rest,
Yet I never searched with hope- still, you found me.
Your warmth, your touch, your eyes-
They awaken something I thought long lost.

It isn’t fantasy, nor is it a dream- I can see it now.
Ive grown accustomed to wandering through gardens of thorns, yet you chose to hand me nothing but delicate flowers.

You are what I couldn’t fathom to dream of.
You kiss my scars, and they begin to heal.
You stitch my wings, and I learn to fly.
You cultivate a field of wildflowers,
So I may run free beneath the open sky.

Unrelentlessly fighting with ghosts of my past, You breathed life into what was fading.
For you, I lay down my sword, my shield, my armor-
You’ve rendered them useless.
With your love, your strength, your unwavering devotion-
The past never stood a chance.

I revel in the thought of our souls entwined,
Dancing through lifetimes before this one.
I see my future filled with dreams that only a rare few could ever grasp.

So take my hand and lead me forward,
Through fields kissed by golden light.
With you, love is not just a fleeting moment,
But the quiet eternity I never thought I’d find.

Even if the world should darken,
Even if time dares to pull us apart,
Know this-
My love for you will outlive the stars,
And in every life, I will find you again.
And my heart- it is and always will be truly yours to keep.

Don’t ask me why,
because,
I don’t know.

But you came to me,
like a sorceress.

Who enchanted my soul,
with her magic.

A magnetism drew us together,
a red thread intertwined us.

Souls that knew each other from another life,
recognizing themselves in a single gaze.

Don’t ask me why,
because there is no why.

Only the universe
willed it so.

Communication, chemistry,
caresses, tenderness,
and unrestrained love—

the kind you make,
and the kind you feel in your heart.

Those beautiful animals
Were born
They grew and
They were used
For chariot racing
Then suddenly
They died and
Here we are
2000 years later
Marveling at their skeletons

She was August, I was February
months apart, but tied by the same number
Eleven, like a thread linking distant days,  
like Pepero sticks she loved,  
thin, sweet, and gone too fast.  

She was the girl who handed me slippers in the rain,  
who lent me her red, green, and white files,  
who sat in the third row while I sat in the first,  
but somehow, we always found our way to the same place.  

She was fries on one eventful canteen day,  
laughing about weight neither of us really cared about.  
She called herself Snorlax,  
but to me, she was Eevee  
full of possibilities, always shifting, always bright.  

She sent me memes, told me to wake up,  
to sleep early
to try again tomorrow
She saw Natsume in me
though I never watched Gakuen Alice to know why
Maybe she saw the quiet fire I never named.  

She was there,  
and then she wasn’t.  
Distance, time, then silence
life pulled us apart like a ribbon unraveling.  
But somewhere
in the space between eleven and eleven
she still lingers.

How many instances have I passed through, completely unaware that the simple act of choice, any choice, or even no choice at all, will set a precedent for chaotic movement forward into a future that I could not even have guessed at. How unpreparedly have I been given this power, the ultimate freedom to control and shape my own destiny. More than that though, the absolute freedom to at any and every moment change course and alter my own future forever. Wouldn't it have been easier to move trustingly into a life where fate has stretched out a rail that we ride on to a destination planned and known.



These are the existential thoughts that wake me at times. My mind worries at feelings that seem to be very much ignored or unnoticed by everyone around me. Today it is Possibility. In fact the proposition of infinite possibility.



This compelling facet of human consciousness winds all of my life up into a tangle of both hope and also anxiety, both absolute freedom and yet crushing responsibility.



I just like everyone else I was born new and empty, unchartered and alone in my emerging awareness and howling my confusion at a complex and indifferent universe. The crux of it is, if dwelt on there is no conclusion but to become aware that all of humanity is first censured then condemned to the breath catching realization that we are free to decide our own path and with every choice whether conscious of it or not shape all future existence. The sheer number of paths to choose can halt us to freeze at the cliff’s edge paralyzed by indecision.



The infinite nature of all possibility implies that there is no singular way to set a course, no correct way to live. I feel dizzy at this and have a headache.



So is there any meaning at all to be found. Clearly humans have always searched for this as both individuals and as a collective solace this has has been constructed carefully by means of cultural behaviours and ancient beliefs. Meaning and order and purpose is formed for us and around us. Perhaps meaning is not a thing that is given but must be actively searched for or constructed. Can I craft any meaning in a world that seems devoid of any inherent purpose.



I have the capacity to review past time to reflect upon my past. Perhaps choices made and courses altered. Memories and experiences undoubtedly shape our perception of all possibilities before us. Perhaps that means for us a choice we may have made remains unexplored. Because we have clear sight of what is past but only a limited grasp of our future, it’s like a confusing mess of shadow and light, half understood implications and inference, We are doomed to be pulled into the unknown.



As I move to the kitchen do begin my day these thoughts and more, much more beset me, trouble me and wear me down. Maybe coffee will help or not, I just don’t know anymore.

How do we miss our call?
What's distracting us today from hearing and trusting at all?