Wednesday, April 27, 2016

The Bits and Pieces of What We Have

I believe we will be friends, that's a fact.

First, I will tell you something about me, then you can tell me something about you, as that, I believe, is how friendship works.

Here is something I believe: I believe that people don't know how people work when they're young and maybe that's why we're so reckless with each other when we're young.

I think people think that people come and go, in and out of life and I think that school teaches them that, that life changes in big annual movements, that one year you're this and the next, you're that. But life blends into itself as you get older and you realise, you will watch a few, if not many, of your friends get old.

You will watch them lose their minds and their hair. You will watch them get sick and get better. You will watch them succeed and fail. You will watch them get married, get divorced, get pregnant and yes, eventually, you will watch them die. Or they will watch you die.

So this is what I believe friendship means. And I'm sorry to have to put such a heavy burden on you. But you have put the same burden on me. But I like how everything works at this moment. 

Now you can tell me something you believe, as it is your turn, and this is how friendship works.


Sunday, April 10, 2016

The Distance To Everything


If it doesn't happen magically happen overnight, then you might want to try doing it manually, everyday.


You told me it'd be okay. But you were the one crying.
You told me to let go. But you were the one holding onto my shit.


And you keep whispering the same story to yourself "I'll be unhappy now because because that'll make me happy later. Because that's how a story works." So your happiness will always happen later, never now. Life isn't a story. Life is chaos.


I didn't miss you now. I miss you then. 
Standing on the edge of the water, I looked out towards a land I could not see. Somehow, I knew you were doing the same. Thinking of me. Thinking of you. 


You can walk into a room and spot them. they seem fine when you talk to them but every now and again, across the room, you catch them looking off into the distance at an invisible point that maybe, they once reached.

They laugh a little different. they hesitate a little more. Now they know what it feels like. And something about their eyes when they listen to music says "Turn it up until my ears bleed. Let it be the last thing I hear."