And maybe the world would be a better place if we learned to love ourselves.

Just like mommy

When I was young, all I wanted was to grow up and be just like my mommy.

Now I’m all grown up, and I’m just like her:
Bitter and sad.

Not in wealth, in love.

The problem is that there will always be a problem. No matter where we are in life, what our social status is, there will always be something going wrong.

People are divided into classes. The “high class” look down on the “lower class”. But who gets to decide who belongs to the higher class and who belongs to the lower class? Why are we divided in the first place? And what makes someone belong to the higher class? Is it wealth? Is it fame?

I could be poor, I could be homeless, I could be viewed by society as the lowest of the lower class, but they wouldn’t know that I’m wealthy, I’m so rich. I don’t have all the materialistic objects they own, but I have love. I have love for my parents, for my siblings, for my friends, for the waiters, for the cat rubbing against my leg, for the laborers that spend hours in the sun, for the cleaners that spend hours in houses, offices, schools, just making sure the toilets are clean enough, for the taxi drivers.

If it were up to me, they’d all be rich. They’d all be considered the higher class. Because what they give to us is more than we could imagine, more than what we get from the corporate lawyers and the CEOs of the world.

Because the world needs more love. More compassion. Because we all need to be equal. Not in wealth, in love.

Vain

I don’t seek wealth, I don’t seek fame. I seek a life of simplicity, a life free of desire, fear, pain, hate, injustice.
Yet I find myself in this mess of a world wishing I had a little bit of this and a little bit of that and I start to despise myself. How can I rid myself of all this vanity?

The vanity that’s poisoning people, is poisoning me too.

Antinomy

Everything I love becomes everything I hate and the unattainable is always desirable.

Hollow shells

We do our best to stay sane in the insanity that is life. Stay grounded, stay put.

Perform.

But we’ve become such great performers that we started believing that we’re in the audience and we can’t tell the difference between truth and fantasy, between truth and lie.

Who are we?

We walk around and suddenly catch our reflection – so confusing. The face looking back at us is so happy, so joyful, so eager, so motivated.

But we’re just hollow shells.

The Final Destination

I long to be more than a temporary stop in people’s lives.

I long to be someone’s final destination.

Self-harm

I remember when you told me that I should stop hurting myself, that I shouldn’t cut.

It took everything in me to realize that staying with you was the worst kind of self-harm.

United we will stand.

How do you feel?

Really, how do you feel?

Do you feel alone in a world full of chaos, full of heartache and sadness? Do you spend your nights wishing you could be happy? Or do you go to sleep every night wishing it would be your last? Do you feel confused, lost, misunderstood? Do you feel like the voices in your head are too loud? Do you wish you could have a moment of silence, a moment of peace, a moment of true bliss? Do you want to open your eyes every morning, feel the sun shining on your face through your curtains, and just smile because everything is right in the world? Do you want world-peace? Do you wish the wars, the torture, the famine could stop? Do you want to fall in love? Do you want to have someone you can trust with your heart? Do you feel like your kindness is being taken for granted? Do you feel abused? Do you suffer silently? Are you sad? Do you want to die? Are you lost? Do you feel alone?

Because listen to me, you are not alone. Believe me, there are many people out there who feel the exact same way you do. And all you have to do is reach out. I’m here for you. I love you. And I want you to keep fighting, keep pushing through. Because that’s what I’m doing. I will not give up. I will find my purpose in life. And so will you.
And we can do it together.

Half-assed

We have become robots. Our thoughts aren’t are own yet somehow we believe they are. We know what we’re supposed to do, we know how we’re supposed to function. It’s all out there. The expectations. It’s all out there.

Wake up, go to work, be a good person, go home, sleep. And repeat.

Stifle your desires.
Shut out the voice that’s telling you that there’s more to life.
Your dreams are simply just dreams.

Fall in love, get married, have kids, raise a family.
Not because you want to, because that’s what’s expected of you.

And even if you do it half-assed, at least you do it.