Through My Eyes 🔎

Kindness is a choice Oh yeah, agree 100% Let’s say, Step 1: You choose to be kind Step 2: A 100 people hurt you Step 3: Go to Step 1 Because YOU choose THEY don’t.

Ask “What about you?” more often, you never know; someone’s answer may still completely change your well practiced, highly proclaimed, experience rich, quietly evolved, deeply examined, hard earned, truth tempered, vulnerability forged, insight driven and wisdom anchored perspective. Take a pause. After all, how many lenses have we actually ever met, and could never asking be the very reason?

Don’t get too excited | Don’t over celebrate happiness | Don’t show you care too soon | Don’t trust easily | Don’t feel for them so much | Don’t be vulnerable with them | Don’t expect | Don’t let it hurt you  Hm. maybe  Don’t  have a heart? It’s easier  And when you look back - do you see YOU or THEM?

Imagine how many times someone said "Not too bad" when they couldn't just say "I'm not okay" – until it became their new normal to "How are you?" And exactly how bad is not "too" bad?

*A poetry based on an inspiration* Ever thought — maybe I was wrong? Would things have been different, had I not listened to the inner me all along? Had I stayed when most signs proved — pain lifelong, said this was normal, nothing yet to be withdrawn, convinced myself leaving seemed a battle not won, Had I buit strength, kept quiet and somehow carried on, let my trembling heartbeat find its own song, remained tethered even when it felt long gone, waited for answers no one else could look upon, Had I called silence peace, though it only prolonged, believed the waiting was proof I was strong, taught myself more patience, thinking things would move on, pushed my endurance for something lasting and long. Had I not taken that decision so headstrong, would I have been where I belong? Well? Nah….. I was not. Period.                                             ...

Lately, my routine has started to root, Even my groceries greet me en-route. “Hey, pick me first, don’t waste the pursuit, You’ll flirt with tofu, dream of fondue, Then boomerang back like you always do.” My couch has memorized my descent, It knows the exact spot where I’ll always be bent. “You again? Same dent? Should I just charge rent? Same slump, same show, same scrolling zone At this rate, I’m basically your first backbone.” I wash the dishes, spoon after spoon, Then—bam!—another one shows up like a jump scare cartoon. Finally done, here comes a pot, that keeps fighting and won’t fit in the lot! Finally yells, “Bro, I’m too big for this spot!” Weekly laundry—my never ending fate, Spins, dries, and piles up like it’s late for a date. “Fold us now,” they chant with flair, “Or we’ll wrinkle up and judge you from the chair” To a point my socks whisper, “Alright, we’re outta here.” Each night I swear, “Tonight I’ll sleep tight,” Lights go off but my screen burns bright. My phone winks,...