I’m a scaredy-cat. The only reason I’m typing this is so I don’t have to endure one more frigid shower. I don’t know if I should categorize this as positive motivation, or just fear-mongering of the soul. You can learn a lot by being patient with yourself. Perhaps just as much from being angry at everybody else. I used to think it was a lie that things would ever get easier. I thought that living was just going to get harder the longer I was alive. There is truth that the juggling act of balancing work, love, and social life grows like cancer. But the physical act of breathing has somehow become manageable. It used to really hurt to live. Still does occasionally.
People are so damn wonderful for no reason sometimes. You’ll be sitting there, worrying about your next sentence, and some unnamable face will warm your heart. You don’t have to remember all the details of who they once were and why they walked into your life for a passing moment, but there they are, sitting, waiting to be remembered. I’m referring to people that you might’ve smoked a bowl with once, or shared a poem in your Christmas light lit room with, but nothing more. We really put too much emphasis on the end-all-be-all relationship. It is the nameless little acts of kindness that make up the better parts of our lives. Love is so miserable. Friendship often feels so fleeting. I am more comfortable with spiting people rather than actually wishing them well on their life’s travels. To walk around, live in a city, sleep under the stars in the country, or hell, take a bus, is a beautiful adventure. walk alone. don’t be afraid. know better than to hate someone for their mistakes. The waiting room is not for you!
Ben Bonkoske 