I’m here
I’m listening to your sounds
I’m feeling your crushing waves
of absolute force and precision
warning me to get down on my knees
and brave the chaos before the calm
and I’m here listening
to everything you have said
only to see where you are ahead
the form in the distance
coming closer and beckoning for color
anything that will make your plight
appear more palpable before sense
yet I attain truth before your arrival
and see everything with new eyes
a new soul, a new mind
the force with which I try to understand
yet cannot come to terms with
as it is so overwhelmingly beautiful
this clarity of the senses
a justification for all that has happened
to appreciate everything
and expect nothing
and see that above the skies
all else is simply noise.


You once told me that we live in an industrial jungle of chaos, where every moment of peace is as precious as a clean cup of water in most other parts of the world. You said that we should strive to find that center of balance within ourselves, among the chaos. In today’s day and age, everything moves at an unmercifully quick speed and we just keep running after it. No one stops to breathe deep, to look at the people beside them, to love honestly and willingly, to make some kind of lasting difference. No one stops for a second out of their busy day just to be a little more grateful, a little more conscious. I came out mentally and spiritually rejuvenated after every class. This bubble I’m living in became so much easier to bear, to appreciate, to enjoy, to analyze, to realize.

Imagine, then, my inexplicable sadness at seeing you so down, spiraling into the remorseless cycle of depression, wandering these sidewalks so invisibly, so transparently. And when I see your cries for help, I look at you and all of my humanness escapes me for a fleeting millisecond. The ugliness of my base nature comes out and my thoughts are swirling like white milk in a cup of black coffee. I become selfish in that millisecond, rationalizing what I’m seeing and wondering why that is. And then I snap out of it, as if I’ve forgotten some former life I once had.