Dear friend,
I'm still trying to understand the day. I am still trying to understand life. I feel alright. But I think we don't remember that we've felt alright when we don't feel alright. We don't remember the day we felt invincible singing a Bryan Adams song. We don't remember these things. But I want you to know that these things exist. And I hope you find them.
I'm still trying to understand the day. I am still trying to understand life. I feel alright. But I think we don't remember that we've felt alright when we don't feel alright. We don't remember the day we felt invincible singing a Bryan Adams song. We don't remember these things. But I want you to know that these things exist. And I hope you find them.
I want to tell these people how important they are to me. How important it is to me when a friend fiddles around with her glasses and another friend wakes up and looks at the mirror and pulls an ugly face and says, “Today I woke up being beautiful.” I want to tell these people that it is important to me that they laugh and their smiles spread across all their skin and I laugh with them. I want to tell these people that it is important to me when I see them around college and that they help me see things. I don’t know why it is important. It just is. It’s the little parts of my day that string it together and then everything comes to life and I feel alive.
It’s like what my teacher was saying. I think even though she loves to tell stories about herself, being alive has brought an unusual kind of wisdom to her. The raw kind. The one that’s just there. Dark-skinned wisdom. She said that when people are around, you don’t really feel it. And it’s a simple thing but then you forget you love them when they leave the door open or when they tell on you or get on your nerves. And when they leave, it doesn’t matter. You just want them there. You know? It’s a simple thing but it was so true that I didn’t want to hear it.
So many things keep happening. I love so many things and people in a secret way. Like my friend said. In a secret way that I might forget them later. But it’s just a good time. It’s a good time when someone tells me that legend has it, the Quail loves mangoes and comes back every season to sing for it. Things end but the world doesn't. A judge in an oratory competition last year looked up from his laptop screen after announcing the quarter final results and said, “Guys, this isn’t the end of the road.” Maybe it really wasn’t.
It was strange that while we drove home, two intersecting flock of birds made a canopy over the car for a moment. They just took flight. Just like that. A prompt from the wind, a sign from the heavens. Moments like these, I just feel drunk on sunshine. There were empty plots, too, where workers were hard at work and cementing bricks or just napping for a while. I don’t know, I just like to think that this is all going somewhere. That these people are all going somewhere. Some place forward. Because a flock of birds soared high and a different flock of bird soared low. But there was still flight. And I hope we’re moving forward. I hope we don’t stay where we are no matter how alright we feel about it. Heaven is a place, after all. I like to believe that.
And that's life today.
Love,
Me.
