“Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they're also what tear you apart.” — 村上 春樹
It’s good to know that #cut4bieber was a hoax and that teenager girls aren’t actually cutting themselves, especially for stupid reasons.
It’s not as if once it’s 2013 everything will magically become better. You can’t expect the new year to be good to you; you have to make the new year good yourself.
It doesn’t matter how we meet; what matters is the process in which we either gravitate closer or farther from one another.
It’s disappointing that we’re never on the same frequency. We’re sort of like clocks: always ticking faster or slower than one another, telling a different time. Yet it’s not mere seconds that separate us, but a much greater distance that cannot be measured by time. We can be so close together, yet so far away. Like clocks, our hearts aren’t in tune either.
I casually wonder about all the encounters I’ve made. How would my life be like today if I had not met all these people? I know something would change. I don’t believe our meetings are mere specks in our lives. They’ve affected me in one way or another; whether it was through small gestures or big actions, a part of me was different— no matter how infinitesimally small. Because of these impacts, I don’t regret meeting anyone. Even if they were for better or for worse, it’s still the same— I became different and was able to feel many different things because of the people I’ve met. For that, I’m grateful.
It’s strange that there are things that we all do every day, but never think or talk about. We all poop, so why don’t we discuss it? I love pooping because when I poop, I like to think about how my poop connects me with people all over the city. My friends, my rivals, my past loves. Even people I have never met; our poops can all meet together in the sewer, connecting us no matter who or where we are. So we shouldn’t think badly of pooping. It’s a common action by which we can all connect. Next time you bend down to wipe a turd from your bum crack, just picture all the other people in the city doing the same thing. And realize for that one moment you are making a sacred connection.
Keeping yourself away from the darkness in the world is like trying to avoid shade or sleep with the lights on— it’s difficult. We’re never entirely pure because we experience all sorts of darkness. But that doesn’t mean darkness is an entirely bad thing. It’s all in perspective: how you handle that darkness and who walks with you through it. Darkness and light support each other and intermingle after all, because they can’t exist without one another. So it’s alright if you’re not one hundred percent pure; it’s nothing to hate yourself over, no matter what you’ve been taught. It’s okay to take risks sometimes and step out of your comfort zone. Don’t confine yourself to just the bright patches of the world.
The world can be so small sometimes. I find it fascinating how much we pass by and say hello to people, yet we’re oblivious to the connections that tie us all together. In some way or another, there are relations between us all. It could be that the strangers you glance at for a second, happen to be close friends with one of your friends— or that the person you’re taking the elevator with, happens to share the same feelings you have for the same person. Unbeknownst to us, we’ve all made an impact on certain aspects of each others’ lives. Perhaps it’s these impacts that have caused others to come into our lives and others to leave them. Anyone can suddenly mean something to us or not. And maybe the halves of our shadows, the people we’re meant to be together with, were on the same train as us once— or it could be that they live on the opposite side of the world. Maybe they’re not even born yet. What’s scary is that the people we see, we might not ever see them again. We might not ever meet these people at all, or even know of their existence. That’s when we remember that the world’s actually big.
Sometimes before I fall asleep, my mind automatically travels back in time; revisiting the warmest and coldest of memories. The present seems so pale in comparison. In these moments, if I had the chance to restart back to a certain point in my past, I would. I most definitely would.
