Big Bear

It's easy to forget just how hard it was to get here, or there, or wherever you are. So easy to forget how cold it was when you're warm, and how much it hurt before you were healed. Or numbed. Or happy. Sitting on a bus at 1:30AM, and I was wondering about your dreams. What little subconscious playground you might have been exploring. I wondered if you were snoring or hugging a second pillow to your rising and falling chest. If you were sighing in your sleep or drooling or mumbling. Then, walking down the hill, I marveled at the city lights. How something so "unnatural" can be so strikingly beautiful. It makes me reevaluate my definition of beautiful, and then my definition becomes, "Quit looking for the soul in the word in your head, and look for the soul in front of you." The beauty isn't in the way my logical ego attacks my feelings with negativity and reprimand. It's in the way the streetlights make the moist pavement shine and light my way home. My heart is whole. Searching for something, so I need to reel it back into me from time to time, but it is whole. Perhaps they mend seamlessly. Perhaps there is a seam, but that doesn't translate into "damaged" for me. There was that boy, two days ago, that inspired me. He inspired me with the instruments and colour and flower and his aura. It was almost as bright as his sweater, and it made my heart grin. I felt akin to him, for whatever reason. He was so into the flow of things, so connected. And I'll never see him again, but I bought a tie-dye shirt today, along with some other coloured clothes. He had a part in that, this inspiration to break free of gray. Goodnight. I'm tired from not dancing and feeling insecure.