Choice

It's hard to let go of a passion. ~ We so often find new likes, new amusing hobbies, new loves. But what's harder to detect is the slow slipping-away of old desires. ~

When you've played an instrument for seven years, three outcomes are likely. Either your passion for music has grown and swelled with time and experience, or it has dwindled with hours of practice and let-downs. Or you might be like me, somewhere right in between, still in love enough to want to caress those ivory keys, yet repulsed enough to dislike the sure long-term commitment that comes with all relationships. ~ What a position to be in. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff, at the edge of a huge decision. To plunge forward is to take a risk, continuing along on this journey through eight notes and quarter rests. To stay unmoving is to develop a sense of safety, a sheltered relief and reprieve after all these years. ~

Choice. We all must make decisions like this throughout our lifetimes. Maybe that's how fortune-tellers first gained popularity - by providing guidance in the face of a tough choice. It's appealing sometimes to burden another with your own problems, to have someone else decide for you. ~ But. Having someone else making your decisions for you strips you of your independence. You lose the ability to judge for yourself, and eventually this leads to total pliancy, with you as malleable as gold in another's hands. ~ Therefore, make your own choices. They might not turn out for the best, but you'll at least learn from your mistakes and become all the wiser thanks to them. ~ Play with fire. Live your life yourself. ~

Summer Days

What a fun day today. Haven't walked this much or gotten this good of a dose of vitamin D since last summer. ~ Made new friends too, which is always enjoyable. ~
Simple pleasures in life are always the best. The cool feel of water on a hot day, the delicious smell of fresh grass after a rainstorm, the joy of making new memories... Summer truly is a fantastic time to bond. ~

Man, it's hard to write when I'm happy. Seems like a depressed, lonely state is best for spinning out deep thoughts. This lightness I feel is contradictory to my writing instinct and is causing the strangest type of writer's block. That cynical sarcasm does come in handy at times like this. ~ Ah well, there's always tomorrow, no? ~

Influence

How many times do we influence someone without even realising it? ~
That one friend you talk to occasionally, giving encouragement? What if he or she kept on going to school and living a healthy life only thanks to your words of advice and care? ~ That old man you recognize at the library after school every afternoon. What if he keeps smiling only because he sees your enthusiastic approach to life every day, each time reminded of his own youth? ~ That teacher of yours who is a harsh marker but strangely seems to favour you. What if the reason behind that was because your written words touch her heart? ~ Influence. We may not know it, but each of us has an impact on the world. None of us need worry over being unnoticed, because one of our simple acts of kindness can make someone else's day. ~ We all have a purpose, an objective we must keep on going for. Existence is never meaningless. ~ Life is worth living, and the reason to live is what each of us must search and live for. ~ Few of us find it. But the path is much more than the goal, after all. Enjoy life knowing that you made someone smile today. ~

Self-consciousness

First time Karaoking. My throat is absolutely hoarse from belting out all those songs. It was great fun though. ~
It seems levels of self-consciousness can be deceiving. We think we know ourselves and the ones closest to us completely... But you can never truly know a person until you have witnessed them in a life-threatening situation. ~ Sure, your best friend might be all bravado when it comes to being courageous, but have you really seen what they will do when really threatened? When forced to make life-or-death situations? ~ True, most of us lucky individuals never have to experience any such harrowing experience. But does that also imply that most of us never truly find out the depths of who we truly are, and what the people who mean the most to us are capable of? ~ A shame? Or a blessing? ~ It is likely we do not even want to know. Yet, curiosity pushes us to extremes, does it not? And we all know curiosity killed the cat, after all... ~ Not that I would ever be brave enough to try, to test myself and others. But I am always prepared should someone else want to test me. ~
A strange post today, admittedly. But it is getting late. Must be the after-effects of spending five hours in a closed room wherein reigns a lingering smell of smoke. Disgusting and mind-addling. ~ Good night, all. ~

Birthday

Today is the first day of a new year in my life. ~ I had my ears pierced. That strange, tingly, somewhat burning sensation marked a change. I'd made a decision that would affect me somewhat permanently, without much previous deliberation. A step forward for me. ~ What is it about our birthdays that is so special? After all, it's really only the day we were born. Wouldn't it be more appropriate to celebrate the mother who carried me for nine months on this summer's solstice, this first day of summer, instead of me? ~ But we humans are so very self-centered sometimes, aren't we? I'm no exception. ~ Every birthday, I feel like something different, out of the ordinary, exceptional, must happen to me. Some major change. Perhaps that's why I finally found the courage to have holes put through me today. ~ And I feel all the better for it. ~
One more rant for today. ~ Facebook. Ah, FB. ~ Previous birthdays passed somewhat unnoticed. Not anymore. This social networking device displays all your information to the world, proclaiming it out loud while you yourself remain silent. Ha. ~ Thanks, FB. All those birthday wishes warmed my heart that much more today. ~
Finally, as this summer's day draws to an end, I'd like to write a final note. A thank you - to Mama and to Papa, who gave me the life I have now. Merci. ~

Dimples

Dimples. ~ They say a dimple is where one was once kissed by an angel, right before birth. ~ The angel's lips leave a small imprint, a tiny valley on the baby's silk-smooth skin, a mark. A blessing on this tiny creature about to enter the world. ~ Why do beautiful baby children, sweet and innocent, become so terrible? So horrid, so filled with corruption, their souls so blackened? What breaks them? ~ I see mothers pushing strollers onto the bus everyday. The tiny bundle inside sticks a hand out, waving stubby little fingers in the air. I smile, yet I wonder. ~ What will this child become? ~
Dimples. Ones blessed by an angel. ~ Yet so many scorn this small giving of love. So many turn to other sources of comfort, find new, twisted things of love. ~ This world is a cruel one. ~ I have only one dimple, called up by my smile, a mark adorning my left cheek. ~ One kiss, one blessing, one life. I won't ruin it. I'll not be forsworn. ~

Dandelions

Ah, summer. Finally, days of cold are over! ~ But you know, summer isn't always all it's cut out to be. The bugs come out, and once again the Evil Dandelion Army spreads its minions to conquer every available square inch of dirt. I hear my dad going off to War against them now, carrying weapons of weed-killing and pulling on his old and sweaty Canada cap with determination. And so begins another cycle. I wish you luck, sire! ~ Yet dandelions... why do we call them weeds? Impostors in our gardens, villains on our lawns, pesky disturbers of flower-y peace. Really, they're only doing what all of us are trying to do - get on with their lives and keep their generation going. They're just better at it than we are. Might we just be the tiniest bit jealous, impressed? Awed by their knack for perseverance, for survival? ~ Dandelions were originally brought over from Europe as a source of food, their leaves to be used in scrumptious salads. But without their natural predators, they began to run amok... And everything went downhill from there. Today, here in North America, they're the strongest weed, king of them all. ~ I step outside and pluck a dandelion, already in that state where a simple breeze will send parachuting seeds out into the sky. I take a breath and blow. The sight mesmerises me. They're so resilient. I wish I had the gift nature lent her little "weeds." ~ The last seed disappears from my sight. Good luck, young tadpole. I hope you make your corner of the world brighter with your burst of sunshine. ~