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nothing will leave you, remarkably, as disenchanted with the passage of time, whether to lament it or celebrate it, than seeing people already ahead while you have just woken up to start your day or vice versa.
it’s just another day, another sky, another shape of clouds, another moon phase and eventually another amount of stars counted.
thereupon lies a greater grief and therefore also a more substantial comfort in the way that you are choosing to decipher life this year.
you can be 18 and 3 at the same time or you can be 18 and 50 at the same time.
you can always choose how you want to be for a day. or two.
the world, the kind kind world,
if you see through her eye,
she is always there to see you picking up the pieces in each corner of your room; some from inside the drawer you always put your feelings locked, some lines you left scattered on the tiles, the bewilderment imprinted on every inch of your wall, the fears you still hide under your bed, and some other hidden under the carpet.
and she knows how to help as you’ve realized that you’re too scared to feel scared anymore,
and it all is still part of yours that shouldn’t be put in escapism, but to nurture all of it.
the world, the kind kind world,
sees you grow
earnestly.
