(albums for these words – click a number: one. two. three. )
I hope you know that you are wholly valued and seen in this moment. that even if you may not feel the embrace of the world or the people you compare yourself to, that even though it sounds incredible cliché – you are who you are, you are you and that’s the only person you can be.
and at times, there’s that deep longing to do more in order to embody, to become, the complete essence of who you are; to solely and entirely be yourself that it sits at the back of your throat. longing waiting for you to swallow it down but, you kinda just let it sit there, a lump in your throat that refuses to go away until you give it another chance to make its way down. but once in a while in the midst of the uncomfortability, longing still sludging itself down your throat, a glimmer of hope that occasionally surfaces as small sparks of motivation makes its way through. where you’re actually able to prove to yourself that you can do this thing called life, to exist as a human being independent of approval, instead of waiting for others and their approval, dodging the loneliness and avoiding the constant question of, ‘is this my life?’ whilst others smile forward; and maybe the tears aren’t worth it in the end, because life always seems to bring itself back full circle and the cycle begins again without asking your permission it’s just an endless full throttle ‘go’ without a red stop sign without breaks without a moment to catch your breath
but, even in the midst of the cycle there is still so much to come of you. so much is to come of your life even if now may feel like a waiting game; like the dying of autumn and the silent whisper of winter where trees hang low their branches seeming dead, animals seeming gone, hoping for a spring that will eventually come but in truth feels so far from the current reality.
I hope in time you find spring; that the flowers that need budding, and the plants that need sprouting, come into your life at full force. a formation of beauty that can’t merely be described with mundane words or understood from a glance of the naked eye. a type of beauty that would never take place, or have the ability to exist, without roots forming and entrenching themselves deep in the belly of the earth. for when you feel unseen and comparison plagues you,
you can always go back to your roots.
you can always start over.
sunday, once more 