The air was cold, the stars bright. Every tree swooshed and crackled with the wind. i sat there in the middle of them all. Staring at their beautiful faces, well what they would have called faces if they had them. When suddenly the sound of a far whistle began, almost as if it had a tune. It grew till it became orchestral strings humming in and out with the wind. I heard a voice, a soft beautiful voice singing to me, “little one, take this wind and with us make the sound.” The sound i assumed was this music they made, it grew from there branches and out through the leaves.. i felt the wind in my hair and began to hum with them. the strings grew to harps, violins, and in came the drums. I could hear the low hum of the guitars, the bassy sounds of cellos, the perfectly erratic noise from crashing symbols. I started to notice the trees had a new shape, a totally new color and grew opaque strings of light that floated as softly as spider webs. They danced around each other with such elegance, such grace that connected the trees to the stars. They grew in brightness and the moon began to spin. The music of the trees within me filled me with such joy it began to spill from my eyes making the same beautiful web strings and we all became one beautiful sight for the night sky.
There are symphonies in the strands of your hair.
I’m here to tell you all to stop worrying about temporary things. It doesn’t matter what you wear, or what your friends think of you, or who your going to fuck tonight. All that matters is that your happy. So stop and look at the flower growing through the crack in the sidewalk. Realize its beauty, and the beauty in your ability to see with not only your eyes but your soul. Entertain the thoughts that come along and guide them to a greater understanding of what is truly around you. Come to believe that all you need is you and the universe to be happy. Then everything or everyone who comes into your life is a even bigger blessing, because you already feel that happiness just as you are. You’ll soon see that the things you are programmed to believe make you happy, is really just a false sense that has turned you into a consumer sucking on the tit of America’s corporations. And don’t worry about the cheaters and the lairs, they are just lost and looking for something you already have. Love. Not for another person, but in a sense of everything around you. It is all love and you can show them through your actions how its done, and one day they will see and we will all be happy.
I’m happy the world is more open to the idea of seeing spirits. I no longer have to see the faces of my friends turn to me as if I’m insane. I’ve proven my sanity by seeing your mother, by hearing your uncle I’ve never met tell me he’s sorry. Walking up to strangers and speaking of loved ones who wanted to say hi. Now that you no longer see me as a weirdo. I can begin to better understand and control the crazy that is my every day life while not feeling completely alone.
End of rant
I slowly feel the cracks splitting
at 6:39 am the world looks like a peaceful place, just the few others enjoying the sunrise and the sound of the coffee machines bubbling away. Electricity is finally waking up, with the street lights abandoning there positions as the world lights up.
ive been putting all the cups away, watching the early birds rise to catch a non-exsistant worm. a new start with the slight smell of yesterdays emotions, i cant really wrap my mind around what makes the world seem new with the light peeking over the roof tops.
6:50, and the clouds become visibly painted pink with purple hues. the ripple effect has leaked over with my lack of sleep. ive never watched the clock and pondered about the seconds im listening to pass by. god could not have made the world i live in more complicated and beautiful.
7:30, and the sun showed his face. the crickets fade and every bird is awake calling out to remove the silence of night. my stomach makes more noise with questions i wish i didnt have. this day and age, the world burns and decays trying to regenerate what we waste. the chemicals stirring in my blood wont cease and ive done nothing but try to breath. it seems modern medicine can only offer a band-aid to those really in need.. but thats if your lucky. too many humans, and not enough money to balance us out.
Im not much for words but more for actions.. a video camera does a much better job of explaining how I feel than a journal ever would.
When our bodies touch I hear the most beautiful music
Waxing and waning
my heart skips a beat, then another.
it must be your electric waves crashing against mine. dancing and twirling within eachother.