Life, a misunderstood word.  All there is, is life, and then no life.  People carry that word around like it’s a vessel of guarantee’s and entitlements. All that ever will be is life, and all that will never be—— is one of the tragedies of this life too. Life isn’t always a “Once upon a time” or a “Happily ever after”. I once had a best friend, he was there and then one day gone——-Time absorbs everyone and everything sooner or later. 

And nobody knows where everything and everyone goes. Words are attached to emotions and emotions are attached to words.  If there were no words, would there be no emotions? If that were true, I’d take a big eraser and delete the words, depression, sadness, loneliness, hate and anger from everyones vocabulary. I’d write love, peace and kindness in large bold font and add them to everyones lexicon. 

Life is carried around like a banner that says love is true, life is fair and everything and everyone is infinite. Trust me, time is not an illusion, the hands of our clocks caress away immortality——-I try to remember this.  

To some, life is a crisp, clean white piece of paper that they wad up into a wrinkled ball and toss into a waste ben. And, to a few, that same piece of virgin paper is something they neatly fold into an origami of a bird, a dragon or a frog. —–Hands.—The same hand that can reach out to comfort others can also be a weapon to repel everything and everyone. When I look closely at my hands I realize how odd and strange they are. One hand fits into another persons hand so naturally, so easily——but then again, it can also just as easily be drawn into a tight angry fist.

Live your best life, not a fraudulent life, not a half life, not a life that is guarded and protected in the hopes of not ever making any mistakes or being hurt. Embrace your mistakes, own your fuck ups, admit your naive follies, cause they are the best teachers——Even when it’s all bullshit, even when you’re buried beneath an avalanche of hurt, reach out for another’s hand. Someday they’ll be a “no life” for you and me, and no one will care what we won or what we gave up on——-it will all be lost in the litter of time——-only you can save yourself. Take a good look at your hands. What might you do with them? 

Allow yourself to be shot out of a circus cannon, dance on the tight wire, be the painted faced clown, be vulnerable, it’s the only way to know yourself, there are no short cuts. We all have nothing to lose. Without vulnerability it’s a lifetime of pretending to be something you’re not. A good friend will help you summit all those mountains of worry and sadness.

Life is full of “I told you so’s”, insincere apologies, deferred honesty and love waisted on watered-down people. I wonder if the sun dreads the days end, like I do. The moon makes no promises of what the night may bring.