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The events of life are uncertain;
what will happen to us cannot be planned;
most of what makes the world work
is hidden behind an invisible curtain;
what is supposed to happen to us
is something that we have to come to and get to
on our own sometimes,
because there wont always be someone
to show us the right path and guide us by the hand.

Life is not always good.
Life is not always spectacular.
Life can sometimes feel like a lie.
Life can sometimes feel like you are standing in an ocean
with the water-level just below your head,
or like you are trying to withstand
a raging torrent in the middle of a flood.
Life can sometimes feel like you are walking around
with the pain of a fracture.
Life is what you succeed at every day,
just as long as you are willing to make an effort
in something that you believe in and feel passionately about-
and something that might not always be a work of art
that everyone will love,
but it doesn’t matter as long as you can always say that you tried.

One day can feel and can be a perfect, beautiful, sunny day,
while the next can be a rainstorm that doesn’t want to stop;
one day you can feel on top of the world,
while the next can be like you are living and existing
in an infinite reality of bubbles that are continuously forming,
floating, dancing through the air,
and then when you least expect, they go pop!

Some days can appear beautiful and bright,
some days can seem claustrophobic and dark;
some days can feel endless and hopeful,
and even at the end of the day when you think
you have seen and experienced it all,
you can suddenly look up at the sky
and see a vibrant display of colour,
even as the stars shine at night.
Some days, some days can seem like you are
constantly trying to escape from a prison,
and like a prisoner people just look at you
and see a number instead of a name-
as if at some point in your life
you were branded with a barcode
that can be read, or some other indelible mark.

You can’t always be who you want to be all the time,
because not everyone is able to understand you,
and most of the time you hide behind something
to disguise your true feelings and emotions-
so as to not start a hopeless fight, or get into a drama;
you can’t always say what you want to say,
because even though we can understand
a little of what someone says
sometimes you realize that you are in fact
talking a completely different language entirely-
because every conversation feels like a struggle,
and getting across what you want to say
just feels like it is getting harder and harder.

Every day can’t be aurora’s, shooting-stars, rainbows,
happy-filled, new adventures, that are blessed above
with blue sky and golden sunshine-
some days you may not even have a minute to yourself
to do what you want to do,
because it feels like everything is just work, work, work.
Every day is a lesson.
Every day is a mixture.
Every day is a creation of something that is of you-
some days it feels like you are a cook
cooking with an infinite number of ingredients,
that you just hope will come together at the end,
to make something worthwhile,
and so that when you look back on your life
you know that you did everything you did for a reason,
like a true Heisenberg.

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When I look around the world
and I see what is happening every day on our planet,
when I see the unstoppable, relentless, powerful,
and sometimes destructive, influence, and life-changing effect
of Earth’s nature on itself and on those who inhabit it;
I cannot believe my eyes,
I cannot fathom how it must feel to be incapable
of doing anything but hold on and watch
as everything you rely on and have ever known
is taken away from you in the blink of an eye-
it is a shock and a pain that no one could ever disguise.
Even I, from the safety and security of my home,
cannot help but be effected by the sight of those people
on my television who had everything,
but who now may be so close to having nothing but the gift of life.
Seeing such sadness and loss is overwhelming
and enough to make me want to cry.

Like most people, I sit, and watch,
and I feel helpless, because I cannot do anything
to change what I am seeing.
Like most people who feel the loss of anyone’s family member,
as if they were one of their own, my own,
I am mindful, and I look around at my own life,
and I thank my lucky stars for what I have and treasure-
and I immediately want to check on my own family and friends’
well-being.

Nature gives, and nature takes away,
but what we can never lose for good
is what keeps us standing every day.
Earth blesses us, and Earth teaches us.
Earth tells us everyday to value what is most important
and savour every second,
to take your time with anything that will stand the test of time,
and adapt as best as you can to the trials of nature,
because life should not be something
you should ever take for granted, wish away, or rush.

When I look around at my world,
and at the faces of the people who are important to me,
who I couldn’t live without in my life,
who make my life what it is, who I love,
care about, would die to protect, and who I adore,
I know that the best of them will always endure.
When I look around at the world and its people,
I am lost for words to describe the meaning of why things happen,
and I am in awe and breathless at people’s strength of will
and fortitude of spirit that is at the heart of their nature.

I knew this day would come,
I envisioned this moment,
I experienced brief phantoms of pain,
I anticipated the sound of my own heart breaking,
before I felt it, before it took my breath away,
and made me ache and agonize over and over, again and again-
paralyzing every part of me, from my chest to my hands,
from my legs to my brain.

There is no cure,
there is nothing that I can take to relieve me
from feeling what it is I am feeling-
I have never felt more inferior,
I have never felt more insecure,
I have never felt more like I am standing beneath
a rapidly descending ceiling.

The storm clouds have been gathering for weeks,
it was only a matter of time before the conditions were right
to electrify the atmosphere and allow tensions,
and pent-up emotions, to strike-out and reach there peak.

I feel every gust of the storm,
as if the wind were blades that could cut my skin
and could penetrate my chest all the way to my heart.
I stood at the storm’s heart, its eye, for a while
thinking that it had mistakenly passed and not left a scar.

The storm is not over yet,
it is still there effecting me, hurting me,
throwing and tossing me in every direction-
I don’t know which way is which anymore,
however I believe that is nature and life’s intention;
but now, I am taking a moment to collect myself,
and try to breath normal, and think straight while I can,
as I consider what is to come for me,
as I stand with my back to the storm.

I can still remember the first time that I was stung by a bee,
I can still feel the pain that started at my left arm
that then spread throughout my entire body;
I can still taste the tears that welled up in my eyes,
rolled down my cheeks, and found there way into my mouth;
I can still see what it was that put a smile on my face afterwards,
and what soon returned me to full-health.

It is fair to say that I had a lot of crushes while growing up-
“love” was a word that I heard all the time,
but it wasn’t until I saw a girl that I cared about kissing my best friend
that I felt and I saw what love was close-up.
It was a strange, painful, and an unfamiliar, feeling at the time-
I can still see them both, even after all these years,
in each others embrace, as I stood staring at them
as if they were in that moment something divine.
Unfortunately, after I saw them,
my mind became flooded with feelings of hurt, jealousy, and betrayal-
I thought that I was going to cry,
because my emotions were over-full.
To this day, I still say that the moment I first felt my heart break
hurt more than any bee sting, ever-
it is a pain that changes you from head to toe,
and I would wish it on no one, never.

It wasn’t until years later that I concluded that
that first heart-shattering moment was the tell-tale sign
that I had fallen in love;
it wasn’t until I had fallen over and over, again and again,
into the beautiful ocean of wonder
that were the eyes of someone who I cared the world for
that I understood that being in love was what fitted me like a glove.

I love to love, I love what love does to me,
I love who I am when I am in love,
and I love that the person that I love never stops inspiring me.
I still get intoxicated when a certain person talks to me,
or enters the same room-
it is everything about them: their voice, their face, their smile,
their eyes, that intoxicates me- more than any spirit, or perfume.

People say that love is blind.
They say that love can make you crazy, mad,
that there isn’t a manual for perfection,
and that love never goes to plan-
and I would have to agree;
but love, to me, is the best thing in the world,
and if you have to be mad to feel it,
then call me a mad man.

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