We’ve Both Grown

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We’ve Both Grown since the last time we talked.
I feel that we would get along if we tried,
But the past is the past and what happened, happened.
I cannot suddenly become what I am not.

We both have a way with words, you inspired me with mine,
You spill your feelings onto pages, I pour my feelings into life.
Still, we were different, you were there, and I was not.
We could’ve been different friends, but not this time.

You are not a bad person, you are a kind soul.
You needed friends for comfort, I needed them for more,
I wanted a solution to my heavy burdens,
My venting was not victimizing, I didn’t want that role.

I wonder how your life is, if anything has changed.
I think about the stories that together we left behind.
I miss them, I really do, for those pages became real.
One day I’ll bring them back, at least that can be arranged.

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To Whom It May Concern

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To Whom It May Concern,

I was born with one certainty in life: I am going to make a positive difference in the world. I knew for as long as I can remember that my purpose was to help the world. Call it instinct, divine mission, or just my passion… but that is what I’m here for. Regardless of what you believe in, I know this is what I believe in almost more than I believe in myself.

See, I change. Every day, my opinions change and evolve, my thoughts run wild and crazy, perceptions get altered with more experience, but the certainty that I have to do something amazing is always there. It doesn’t matter what happens, who I meet, or who I become in the end… I will do whatever it takes to accomplish my soul’s deepest desire.

I am here for this and I will do this regardless of whoever or whatever gets in my way. I will write, I will sing, I will storm the world with everything I have to say in hopes that the ones that hear me will have a brighter day. I will fight for more than just myself, I will fight for everyone that needs a helping hand. We are not in this world alone. We do not live here alone by ourselves. We are surrounded by brothers and sisters, not biological, but spiritual, energetic. Is it wrong to care about your species? Is it wrong to care even more so about all the Earthlings we share this planet with? Caring should never be considered a wrong answer, and that is what I think.

Here I stand, sit, and lay down staring at the world around me, feeling my heart burn and pulse with the immense desire to help others, yet at this present moment, I need to build up my strength to do so. With great change and power, comes great responsibility. I am that strong, but I must be stronger. I must know more, I must learn more, so that I can have the necessary tools to reach a larger group of people around me.

For now, I start small. I change the lives of those I know while trying to build up my strength. My journey is a long one, but I am dedicated to it every part of the way. Nothing can stir me from my path. Nothing can make me shy away from my biggest goal. I expect many to try to stop me, mostly those who are scared of light or those who have skewed opinions of what I am trying to do, and for those, I apologize, because there is nothing you can do to break me.

Sincerely,

A Person With A Mission

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Let Me Grow Roots

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I was germinated in a bag,
Transplanted into a small pot.
Before I was even full of leaves,
There had been thousands of pots
Of many colors.

As a sapling, I grew strong,
My bark was thick from all the moving
I had done as a seed.
My roots were weak,
But my leaves were large.

When a small tree, I learned something;
My roots didn’t have the time to grow.
I could stay strong regardless of my pot,
Regardless of how many different plants I was not.
My roots could grow strong.

Finally, I decided I was done with all of this.
I wanted to stay still, stand still, and just that.
Let Me Grow Roots, for once in my life.
Let Me Grow Roots, so I can grow large.
I can live on the move, but Let Me Grow Roots.

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Chemical Abuse

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An overwhelming sense of adrenaline
Rushes through my veins.
A heightened sense of awareness,
Of my light-weight lens.

The world seems to slow down,
My heart seems to speed up.
Energy pulses within me,
And I can’t get enough.

High-fives go left and right,
Hugs go up and down,
I’ve missed you, lost friend,
This is your first time around.

Ease controls my body,
Nothing can alter this state.
The world is not as dark,
Though most cannot relate.

For the burst of life inside,
Is something all can use.
This happiness is a choice,
Not a chemical abuse.

I have become addicted.
I come to crave the feeling.
Let’s just say it’s drugs,
You’ll have an easier time believing.

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My Dear Friend

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My dear friend,

You are all I have left of my past. I have abandoned all of my creations, keeping them only in memories that refuse to leave my heart. I still recall the times that they have cried for me and done questionable things that real people would not do.

My dear friend, you are all that is left. I met you a few years ago during finals week and recognized you because someone had described you a few times. Apparently, not everyone recognizes you. I feel accomplished to know your name. I feel accomplished in seeing what you do.

Even now, you still follow me. I’ve said goodbye to my past, on questionable terms which I deemed would be healthiest for everyone in the end. I’ve done the one thing I most often avoided doing: burning bridges. I burned not only three, but another three that were connected. I am accustomed to accepting that people will hate me for doing what I feel is best. The truth is, my past has made me selfish. I no longer sacrifice myself for others. I have so many more limits to what I can take.

But my dear friend, why can’t I say goodbye to you? Why do you still follow me? Why do you overwhelm me to the point of exhaustion? Why do you tell me all of these horrible things? Why do you dampen my self-esteem when things are clearly good and why do you make me feel worthless despite everything showing otherwise? Why do you tell me I did something wrong when all someone did was say hello?

My dear friend… why can’t I leave you? Why must you remind me of everything that can go wrong? Why must you punch me in the chest so strong that it feels like I’m having a heart attack? Why do you strangle me so? Why do I keep you around?

Oh, Anxiety… you’ve been with me for a while now, haven’t you? You’re not my favorite monster. You’re not my favorite friend. Honestly, I wish I knew how to say goodbye to you once and for all, but I feel that once someone meets you, you’re impossible to forget.

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To Bring Pain is Painful

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Pain. I often pride myself in not feeling hate towards people or things, but I greatly dislike pain. I am used to the idea and feeling of suffering, as it makes me grow, however, I cringe at the knowledge that throughout life, I will cause many people pain.

The fact is that you cannot please everyone and be yourself at the same time. “A friend to all is a friend to none” was once said by Aristotle, and I cannot agree further with that. People come filled with a variety of good qualities and bad, and if you appeal to everyone’s good qualities, you are ignoring the times you appeal to someone’s bad qualities, meaning that in a way, you are never truly appealing to people at all. You are not a true friend if you are a friend to all. You must have standards.

With this, comes pain. When you cannot please someone, the best course of action is to often avoid contact, given that you don’t get along anyway. Sometimes it’s a little too late to realize that incompatibility is a thing, and other times you don’t realize because you don’t want to. Closing your eyes to something that has moments of happiness will not erase the memories of pain. It is during this moment, pulling away might cause pain, and I feel that is the one thing that I truly hate: Causing people pain.

I feel that I am comfortable with knowing that I will feel pain as well. That is normal. That is expected. Life is full of suffering in between all of its amazing moments, but there is suffering. Pretending to not see it just makes it harder. Others, however… It pains me to see others suffering. It tugs at my heart and makes my chest hurt. It squeezes my heart so tight that I can barely breathe sometimes with the mere thought of the pain someone else is going through, and it’s only worse when I know that I am the cause of that pain… a pain caused by self-preservation.

Following that, I avoid pain, not necessarily for myself, but for others. When possible, I do my best and I try my hardest to not hurt people. Unfortunately, sometimes, it looks like people just like being hurt…

If I could ever bring myself to hate anything, it would be to hate bringing bad feelings to others.

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