One I can call my own

I’ve seen many trees. Apple trees, pineapple trees, avocado trees, paper trees, green trees, created trees, shape shifting trees. They all have a special kind of energy. They all welcome me in for a second, sometimes a minute. Except the dark tree; the dark tree is withering and used to be an old friend, it no longer likes me in its shadows. Why? Because I like the light.

After leaving the darkness, I had to start over. Many trees have been cut down. When I think I finally found stability in a tree and its branches, I find it wasn’t so and I must move on and start all over again. Will it ever end? It doesn’t matter. Wondering about these things makes me sad and there is no point to that. All you can do is move forward and keep walking the path, whatever that may be.

Just because others have found trees, doesn’t mean I should too. Just because others are different, doesn’t mean it’ll last. Just because the darkness used to be home doesn’t mean it’ll be that way forever. It gets confusing. I’m just looking for a tree that will shape me, love me. I’m just looking for a tree that colors me and fills me with all the good things its leaves and height has to offer.

I don’t want to wander under the sun for much longer. I don’t want to feel lost. I want to choose the path that leads me to the perfect tree that also happens to be next to an enchanting lake. That way, I can have my cake and eat it too. I want a strong tree that doesn’t make me question a thing, one where all the pretty flowers bloom around it and I can be wild and free.

Is that too much to ask?

The more I think I see a tree in the distance, the less it’s an actual tree. It’s just a man made structure that seems interesting but isn’t real. It no longer hurts, it just gets tiring at times. Being under the sun won’t kill you but it’ll certainly dehydrate you and eventually make you hallucinate. It is what it is. There’s no point in going against it. Fight the fight.

I do have an angel, 20 bucks and a mind of my own and some old cookies in my pocket. I hope it’s enough to get me there. I hope it carries me through. Also, the fairies are with me. I can feel words and almost wake up anywhere my soul longs to be. Sometimes I can’t find a comfortable place to rest. Nothing feels better than a tree but that’s OK. The longer it takes, the more I’ll appreciate it.

Give me beauty. Give me love. Give me peace and give me trust. I never want to lose myself. Give me passion and give me just a little bit more. A place I can call my own, a tree to rest my soul in. A tree that will grow faster than I can. One that understands and one that will never lead me astray. One I can call my own.

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Hers and mine

This concept came to me whilst I admired a red head’s music. A singer songwriter at heart, I not only listen to her music; I breathe it in, I feel it pass through me. I shiver as the piano makes that very grand sound. She has compared playing the piano to breathing. I can only imagine that it’s because it comes so naturally to her and because without it she simply couldn’t live, it wouldn’t be her. I see her and it’s inexplicable. For the longest time I wanted to be her. How could I not? Her enchanting talent, her message, and her strength were empowering. Especially to a little girl who wasn’t sure who she wanted to be.

But now I want to be me. I want my voice to be heard. Not with desperation, but with a certain calmness that only maturity can bring. I wanted to be anyone but myself and that is the opposite of what my desire should have been. The one true reason I admire the people that I do is because they are unapologetically themselves. Why then would I strive not to do the same?

Most people who know me well enough say that music is the path for my voice to be heard. But I can see several paths. I can see a straight line and a zigzag. I can see the moments when it’s downhill and the uphill cliff. I want to try the fruit from different trees, not just one. I might not be able to try it all, but at least some. I love the music, but I also love the words. I love the images and also the designs. I strive to be myself and every single shade in between.

This time I will do it and I will do it right. I will rid myself of confusion and doubt. I will let go of the fear and finally embrace who I am. So far, it’s been quite liberating. I guess the only obstacle to become me, was me.

Yes, her voice is enchanting and has a very unique message from Peggy. But mine can be just as great. Admiration can blind us into forgetting about ourselves and our expression. It’s no one’s fault. It’s our job to fall in love with this body we’re in. It’s our job to be infatuated with the creature that is us. Because if we aren’t madly in bliss with the experience we’re having, what’s the point of life? It’s incredible how we give our power away when we should protect it.

Her voice inspired me to find my own and for that I am forever grateful. Just never forget, in the midst of the madness, that more than looking up to anybody…you should look up to yourself. Then suddenly, your worries won’t be a burden; they’ll slowly vanish. You’ll breathe easy and know there’s nothing better than being your own.

This winter day isn’t mine

A strange creature bit me and I bled. I have so many things I feel unhappy about and therefore I lose a day. I know how I feel about this country, I know how unlivable it can get and yet it’s not up to me to change it. All I can do is protect my days and let them be. Why can’t I just let it be? I focus on the pain, the regrets and the mistakes I can’t seem to forgive myself for and then this winter day isn’t mine; I lost it.

I hope I become a better guard of my days from now on. I want days to be mine; I want to breathe them in and play with them. Together happily ever after we have lived. Without thinking about anything but the exact precise day I’m inside of. Have it be any season or anywhere in the world…I just want to get along with any day I may encounter.

I thought I did not have anything to write about today and then this tribute showed itself up. This is a tribute to all the lost days that show up & slip from our hands. Here they are, trying to be our friends and then we manage to lose them. I wonder where they go. I wonder if they find a way to make a different soul happier. I wonder if they ever return or stored they remain in the past. The days seem to be so much wiser than us mere mortals. Life’s design seems almost absurd. Nowadays there’s just too much to do and feel; it seems impossible to do it in one lifetime. Today I say farewell to this winter day in Guatemala that I have lost. I know I might not ever see it again but I’ll try to protect dearly his future friends scheduled to show up tomorrow.