“If you jump i jump, right?”
Remember to always be who you are. You are the fucking shit. No one can change that. Don’t let them. Be yourselves, and fuck everything else, alright? Believe whatever you wanna believe, love whoever you wanna love, fucking dance whenever you wanna dance. You are the most important person in the world. Please never stop being you, don’t listen to what anyone else ever tells you.
I am a landmine.
Sometimes I break down so hard you can hear it, and when I can stand to come near it with means to repair, the chances of walking out unscathed are slim to none. I know because I’m one; a victim of second-hand breakdowns and bad impressions, made under intoxicated conditions with poorly lit expressions. And I regret not going back, I regret not missing flights, I regret not asking for more and taking chances that I can only hope will not be forgotten. My fingers are crossed. I-O-U. Now my telephone’s dead and I can’t stand to hold out like this, but I’m constantly checking myself so as not to be a burden. Anything too heavy eventually gets dropped, no matter the cost. Let me be light as a feather, but valued enough so as to remain in a back pocket, until those jeans need washing and I find my place on a bedside table, to be read aloud on nights when memories and prying needs return to haunt the foundations of this room. Pick me up, read me every now and then, I won’t disappoint. I am witty and engaging so bless me with attention, because I’m dying for attention without any means of telling you.
Out Where the Water Runs Deep. The rocks on the beach stand resolute in their stillness as a thousand waves a day come against them. Sometimes gracefully surrounding and flowing over on the slow patience of an incoming tide. Sometimes crashing in with rushing of a passing storm. Against, over, around and then back to the sea.
At first glance and surface consideration one feels for the futility of the water and admires the steadfastness of the stones as the waves fall to nothingness in tidal pools and droplets that slowly fade to sun and air. The stones appear to last while the water disappears. Or do they ?
Everything returns to the sea. In the water is the hidden power to find its way back to the source. With the tides and waves the ocean retrieves what is given to the land for it knows of the sanctity of its connection in every creek and river no matter how far inland. The ocean is patient. Even the sky and rain are in service to the return of the evaporated extensions.
And once again, the water runs deep.
To touch and contact and then return. To take with it the memory of every moment of every day. To be changed and excited in the encounter while always staying true to the source. To be blessed in the awareness of the truth of the Eternal. True power does not reside in the false belief of temporal resilience and hardened protection but rather in the beauty of the vulnerable and the courageous. The waves touch and return and wait, finding other shores, but always there.
Out in the deep at night a song is sung to the earth. “In the brilliant beauty of morning you stand strong, but I know, I know.”
Eyes always betray what’s hidden in the heart. The soul will always find its way to the source. The spirit resides in the moments when all goes quiet and in the deepness of the sea the truth of a greater love prevails.