Because I don’t care what other people say. I know I’m different. But I know I’m a good kind of different. At least, I hope I am. Especially to you. People gawk at me at school. They wonder why I’m there. I know the things they say about me. Frankly, if that makes them feel better, go for it. I’m bigger than that. I can move on faster than you can spread the next rumor. I know who I am. I will never falter. I will stand strong. I do not care what you say. I do not care what you spread. I do not care what you think. I know who I am. And so do you. You can see the real me, better than anyone else can. You respect me. You trust me. You know me. You love me. You don’t care what they say. You can look past them. You can look past them, to me. We do not care. We stand strong together. Hand in hand, we will concur the world, together. Onward we move.
August 2011
49 posts
You see time stops still in the eye of the storm. Love’s a hurricane and they meet me in the middle. It’s the exotic breeze at the festival night show. That hot sweaty air, with the twist of that hydro. It’s the power of my passion, the picture my pen paints, caressing the canvas to put my click in a zen state. It’s that zone with my thought, the peace when it’s starlit, hat blazing fireplace, bare feet on the carpet. Or sitting on my porch, where this one sways freely. And right through the night,until the sun rays greets me. It’s the past love still cooking inside. It’s that warm fuzzy feeling when I look in his eyes. You see time stops still in the eye of the storm. Love’s a hurricane and they meet me in the middle.
Bliss n Eso - Eye of the Storm.
He told me it made him think of me, especially this part.
“Home, let me come home. Home is wherever I’m with you.”
I have never heard anything more true, and honest in my life. The second I heard your voice I wanted to cry. I missed you more than a heart could miss anything else in the world. Your voice awakened something inside me, something inside me that had been lost for the past few weeks. And then, I saw your face. Nothing else mattered at that point. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and storms can bring you close again once more. The warmth of you hand on my cheek. The joy of your smile. The simple fact of you being next to me, I could care less about anything else in the world. Even the hurricane above our heads, was no match for the only thing filling my head; you. Knowing that you have to leave again, knowing that I won’t get to see you, I don’t even want to think about that. All I can think about is tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day, full of chance, surprise, love, adventure, and togetherness. Tomorrow is another day I get to spend with you. Tomorrow is another memory to be, and will be made. Tomorrow is a day all itself. Tomorrow, is you and me.
Freedom is not something to be afraid of. It is the temptation of carelessness that comes with it. It is the feeling that you can bend without breaking. But in reality, it’s never a bend, there has to be a crack somewhere. The glass is either clear or cracked. It’s not falling away from yourself that you have to worry about, but you should worry about how much you want what you are, what you have. If you want to cracking, or falling, or distorting the picture of your life, take the time to prepare yourself for what comes next. Know in your mind, right now, it is not going to be easy. No one said it has to be hard, but it is not going to be easy. Captivation is something you are capable of. It is how you use your captivation in your favor, for better or for worse. Am I making any since? Am i just talking on, and on? Do you follow my crazy thoughts?
I guess all I’m saying is, becoming broken can be avoided. The real question is do you want to stay together.
There is something about the rain. Maybe it is the way that each droplet falls in a different location than the one right next to it. Maybe it is the way it hits you, like a fast moving truck, a wall against your skin. Maybe it is the way the thunder shakes your body, the way the pressure can wake any dead man’s heart. Maybe it is the way the lightning cracks, almost as if to smack you down to the ground. Maybe it is the way it gives new life to a sleeping flower. Maybe it is the way the gray color takes over all the blueness of the sky. Maybe it is the way it feels on your skin. Maybe it is the effect it leaves after it is finished. Maybe it is the way that all have romanticized about a moment in the rain. Maybe it is the way that it tastes. Maybe it is the soft pitter patter it makes on your windowsill. Maybe it is the way it sends everyone rushing inside, to take cover, to be warm, to get close. Maybe it is the hope of a rainbow. Maybe it is the way it floods the streets, as different things flood our hearts. Maybe it is truly magic, or even a miracle. There is something about the rain, something that I am in love with.
