#thoughtsbywayof

[betterbywayof]

B.r.u.s.h. S.t.r.o.k.e.s.

I used to get lost in dull lanscapes. Landscapes covered over in bland paints. I’d paint, and paint and paint away. Just to make, and make, the same mistakes. Used to say sorry right away before I learned it’s okay to make mistakes. Because they’re all hand made, made by my hands, and I’m just a man a man made by chance. Making mistakes means still to create. I say, what is the value of a man with no stakes, a man afraid to seize the day because he’s made mistakes? Now what do I say of the man who does create? The man that does not take par but the man that partakes? What of the man who lives not for the things made by man but the values that the man made? What kind of man does that man make? It makes a man that can’t break, which is a man who takes the day to just be great not on some days, but great on days just like today, a day just like every day

[betterbywayof]

I used to believe that something was wrong with me. That I'm awkward around others because of some fault. The more and more I thought about it, the more I shied away from contact with people. Until one day I realized, that it's not that I don't know how to talk to people. It's that most people don't know how to respond to me. And in that thought, there is power. There will always be people who don't understand you. Just as there will always be people who do.

Passing Thoughts

[betterbywayof]

B.A.L.L.O.O.N.S.

I wonder if birds look at our loose balloons in awe. Don't get me wrong. Having the gift of flight would be incredible to say the least, but I think even birds would have the same reasonable dislike of falling to the floor as I.

[betterbywayof]

O.C.T.O.B.E.R. 5.T.H.

I made the mistake of looking through our old messages. I forgot how weary I made your feet, on a journey that I didn’t make worth walking. If only I could reach out to you. If only I could see your face now. Content not available. So now I'm straining to see your face, see your smile, in the tiny circle that holds the woman I once loved.

[betterbywayof]

Morning bus rides. Time to sit and reflect on a day that hasn't happened. What goes through the minds of those without music? Overcast skies, a cool blanket to excited thoughts. The engine sings a gutteral lullaby to some, while the rumble of the shell is a mothers arms to others. Unread advertisements in languages I've never seen before. It's a small world outside, and a smaller world in these seats.

[betterbywayof]

Size is not an indication of strength. Is there a man who can lift more weight than me? Without a doubt there is. But life isn't about what you can move, it's about having the strength yourself to not be. Not even the ant buckles under gravity, and the weight of the world. Neither should you.

[betterbywayof]

Only when my heart started to beat for itself, did I realize how much room I had for you in it.

-ByWayOf

[betterbywayof]

P.E.N.C.I.L.

I think about the journey my pencil takes in the seconds it takes for me to find it. Like when I drop it, in those one or two moments of freedom, it will have gone spelunking under my couch, trekking through my carpet, backpacked across the room, and end it's vacation in the most uncomfortable place for me to reach.