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A different place, a different feeling,
a different experience, a different time;
a new place, a new feeling, a new experience,
a new inspiration to inspire the genesis
of a new chapter of a story, the poetry of a new rhyme.

If something isn’t different, it never feels natural;
if something isn’t different, it always feels strangely out of place;
if something isn’t different, it stands out more than a bull;
if something isn’t different, it doesn’t makes as much of an impact,
and doesn’t leave as much of a trace.

You can never say you have seen everything,
because life is constantly surprising and inspiring you;
you can never say that you don’t leave somewhere
with more than you bring-
you learn and you see something everyday you never knew,
and that is something authentically new.

Differences are more amazing to me than a carbon-copy.
Being different is more important to me than anything.
Differences are life in it’s most exquisite form,
and in it’s most phenomenal beauty.
Being different is how you discover the meaning of your own soul-
through self-expression, through impressions,
through art, music, books, and writing.

I love things, and I love people, who stand out from the crowd,
because they aren’t like everybody else, and don’t want to be.
I love things, and I love people, who are awesome
in their individuality and complexity,
who every second give you the gift of a new and wonderful discovery.

I am drawn to things that give me a reason to feel something;
I am attracted to those who give me a reason to look at them,
because they are not just another train passing through a station
passed those standing looking and waiting on a platform;
I am drawn to things that create a reaction,
a vortex, a slipstream, a heat, like a hot spring;
I am attracted to those who emit light and interest
in the world around them-
who fly alone most of the time,
and who feel at home and comfortable
not being one of a swarm.

No two roses are as beautiful.
No two stars shine the same.
No two hearts in love could be more heaven sent.
No two days are ‘as usual’.
No two teams can win the same game.
No two things that are truly special,
though they may look alike,
could be more different.


Who are you? Who am I?
We were all born. We all live. And one day we will all die.
But is that it? Is that the paradigm of life, existence, and identity?
Or, perhaps, is that just our way of simplifying the universes inherent eccentricity.

The colour of our planet is made up of many varying hues;
the colour of our lives is made up of many varying vistas, horizons, and views.
The pigment of our interactions is made up of a multitude of interconnected rainbows;
the flowerbeds of our garden is like an aurora of light emanating from the petals of a rose.

Life, to me, is like the ingredients, the constituents, and the recipe of light:
light is colour, just as colour is light; night is day, just as day is night;
however, how every living-thing perceives the world could not be more different;
just as not everyone speaks the same language, in the same voice, or with the same accent;
just as not every species of bird has the same call, or whale the same song-
life is one big orchestra, choir, and chorus, of sound, expression, pallette, and throng.

What makes life so captivating to me,
is the fact that we, the Earth-kind, are all individual; but we all stem from the same tree.
What makes me smile, what makes me jump up for joy, and tell everyone I meet,
is exactly what puts the hue in human, and what puts the light in elite:
the truth that what we think we are seeing is not all that there is,
the knowledge that all life and light is one and the same, and shines brighter than Polaris.



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