How do I write my own story
How do I use these margins as a springboard
That will propel my words across the lines of this unmarked paper
How do I shape a mountain out of the scattered boulders littered across this flat terrain
How do I create the spark
That will ignite this dry kindling into a blazing bonfire
How do I stir these stagnant waters to motion
How do I begin to carve this block of stone into a statue
That will continue to speak my legacy after my voice has withered away to dust and ashes

Until now I have coloured within the boundaries printed on the pages set before me
I have created perfectly generic and acceptable images that have brought me praise for my ability
But they were not my own ideas
The outlines were slipped onto my desk by well-meaning adults simply doing their jobs
I believe it’s time I graduated to a blank canvas

I want my colours to blossom across every inch of the space I have
I want to dabble in fiery reds, deep blues, and ultimately rich purples
I want my purpose to be seen in the aim of my paintbrush
I want my worth to be felt in the warm glow of art
I don’t want my paint to fall in aimless splatters
I want to trace the silver lining that has gone ahead of me my whole life
A bright arrow leaving a glowing trail behind
Cutting like a knife through the darkness

But now I see that the seeds of a story have already been planted in my soul
All they need is rain and sunshine, care and time,
Before they will spread beautiful leaves
And reveal an intricate network of branches for all to see

Rainy seasons are not always the best seasons.
Some use the rain for their crops;
Some use the rain to induce their sleep;
Some use the rain to hide their tears.

Is the purpose of living
to experience
joy and happiness
in the present-moment?
If so,
find an activity you enjoy
and enjoy it!
For example,
is eating tasty nutritious food enjoyable?
Enjoy it!
Is talking a walk in a park enjoyable?
Enjoy it!
Is romancing a person you love enjoyable?
Enjoy it!
Search for activities to enjoy
and enjoy it!

When I was a youth
I did activities
for the purpose
of gaining experience;
Now that I’m wiser
I do activities
for the purpose
of gaining
joy and happiness.

I have chosen a purpose
for living:
I am
striving to achieve
joy and happiness
in the present-moment,
for myself and others.

often I curse our creator
for building us broken
before I am reminded
she hardwired us brains
hell-bent on fixing themselves
so the pieces we must place
are in their disarry
what makes us whole

When I feel
my life is meaningless,
I remind myself
it is my responsibility
to make meaning of my experiences
by doing philosophy:
which clarifies
my aspirations and values,
which evaluates my experiences
in comparison to my aspirations and values,
which discovers wisdom
about what I can do
to improve my situation
to achieve my purpose: joy and happiness;
then my life is meaningful!

I envy you who awakes to welcome the birthing of a new day.
Where family, friends, love and hope are the keystones of your way.

Once I too had those things and could welcome each rising sun.
And like you too I did all I could to hold those things hard won.

I never thought of my life in terms of what it had cost.
Never understood the value of having it until it all was lost.

I never even thought that it could all be lost in the way it was.
To end up living life when the sun rises and that my only "because".

To have a life with meaning and where you can have some good.
Yes I still remember it and I would turn my time back if I could.

I hope you can forgive my envy and know I bear no ill will to you.
But hear, please my en-treatment, your world is fragile too.

Do not take for granted that things will always last.
Better those things in your future than only in your past.

To experience
Joy and Happiness
is the purpose of life,
so don’t
focus on anything else;
Focus only
on striving
to experience
Joy and Happiness.

My Words are daggers on my tongue,
But liquid through my pen.
Conviction pies only in ink
That soaks a pleasing blend.

What mouth can electrify more
Than six words on a sheet,
Delicately carved in minds
To fuel a hearts each beat?

I'll paint designs on homely scars
To make my children weep,
And make self pity sound like songs,
Like wolves hid among sheep.

These tales are filled with elegance,
But only from intent.
Delivered are my past regrets;
My own way to repent.