This Crazy Idea We Call Life

Life.

Something given to everyone, but never thought about much by anyone.

It is amazing, really. 

Amazing that we are all here. Living. 

Creating societies, coming up with new ideas. Constantly. 

As people who started with nothing, it is amazing that we have so much. 

Where did this all come from? Everything is perfect. Think about it.

We are living on an earth that revolves around a sun. 

It is not close enough to burn, but not far enough away to freeze. 

It is perfect. It has everything we need to live on it. And so much more. 

It has so many little things for us to enjoy. 

Like sunsets and trees and shooting stars and mountains.

It has so many horrible things happen to it. 

But somehow, we continue on with life. 

There are other people on earth. 

With different ideas, beliefs, and backgrounds.

All with the same goal. To live a happy life.

We can communicate with each other. 

Find others with our same beliefs and ideas.

We can make friends. 

People who we think we couldn't find anywhere else in the world.

But somehow, we are placed in the same place at the same time. 

And maybe if we didn't see them in that split second.

Maybe if one thing was changed, nothing would have turned out the way it is. 

We are given families.Who are there to care for us and help us. 

And somehow, they spend years with us without getting too sick of us.

We are given so many freedoms and opportunities. 

So many things we don't even take time to think about. 

Everything around us is so perfect. 

Everything always seems to work out. 

So the question. What is life? 

And how did things work out to be just the way they are? 

I would like this answer. But I have no idea. 

I continue life like everyone else. Hoping one day I might know. 

Not trying to find the answer anywhere. Because no one is sure. 

Maybe one day we will understand something.

About this crazy idea we call life.

I Walk Alone.

I don't remember when I started walking. I don't remember where I came from. All I currently know is that I am alone. Alone on a street full of ruined dreams and wishes. Wishes that never would nor ever could come true. But I was never able to realize it.

I walk alone. I begin on a street that I once knew, but now have no recollection of. The street is covered in papers. Everywhere. Full of words that were never read and feelings that were never felt. I have a backpack with me. Full of pens and blank notebooks that will never be used.

I walk alone. The sky is dark. It is windy. The once meaningful papers begin to blow. Around and around. Blowing until they get caught on something and torn to shreds. I look around a bit more. There are many successful people on this street. All of whom seem to know each other. They are the people that I once wished to be like. The people I once wished to associate with. But I do not know any of them. Nor will I ever.

I walk alone. It starts to rain. The words on the pages still intact start to bleed. They bleed until there is nothing left to read. If I could. I continue walking. I have nothing to cover me, only the backpack on my back. The backpack containing things that will never be of any use. I put it over my head. And continue walking.

I walk alone. Everything around me is ruined. All of the words. All of the feelings. All of the memories and meanings. All gone. Anything left on the street is just shreds. Useless now. As if they had ever been of any use anyways.

I have an idea. Maybe I can start over. With the empty pages in my backpack. I pull out a notebook, and open it up. I have nowhere to begin. All the ideas I once had were gone. All of the feelings I once felt have disappeared. The dreams I once spent so much time chasing are broken.

I walk alone.

I'm Thinking About You.

Tonight I asked you what you think about most.

As always, your response was "I don't know."

Then you asked me.

And I responded with the same.
Even though I knew it was not true.

Not true at all.

What do I think about most?

You.
Always you.

The truth is I can't get you out of my head. 

I am constantly thinking about you. 

I think about you like clocks think about ticking. 

Like seconds think about minutes and minutes think about hours. 

I think about you like clouds think about rainstorms, and like umbrellas think about rain.

Like Eeyore thinks about being grumpy. 

Like Pooh thinks about honey.

I think about you like the earth thinks about spinning. 

Like the sun thinks about shining. 

Like grass thinks about growing.
I think about you like I think about how stupid the things I just said were.

I think about you like life thinks about lemons.
Like lemons think about lemonade.
Like we wonder where these phrases even came from, or how they make sense.

I think about you like calculators think about math. 

Like backpacks think about books and like books think about words. 

I think about you like teachers think about homework.
Like students think about the weekend.

I can't not think about you. Even if I try.
You are always somehow in my thoughts.

I think about you like cookies think about milk. 

Like brownies think about chocolate. 

Like I think about food. But more.

I think about you like monsters think about closets.

Like little kids think of checking under the bed every night.

Now I am asking myself.

When am I not thinking about you?

I think about you all of the time.

And when I do, I am always wondering.

Do you ever think about me like I think about you?

Love.

Love is the smell of freshly baked brownies.

Love is seeing a little kid smile.
Love is knowing that someone cares about you.
Love is the feeling you get before you go on a roller coaster.
Love is realizing it's the weekend.

Love is sitting by the fire with hot chocolate during a snowstorm.
Love is your favorite song coming first on shuffle.
Love is never ending conversations.
Love is opening a brand new book.
Love is taking a nap under a warm blanket.
Love is the feeling of sunshine on your face.
Love is dancing in the rain.
Love is realizing that someone is actually listening to you ramble on.

Love is dancing by yourself with your iPod in your ears at midnight.
Love is days with no homework.
Love is knowing that you have helped someone in some way.
Love is the feeling that you don't know how to get rid of, 

but wouldn't want to if you could.