The~Journey~blog

There will always be good days and bad days. Sometimes its worth it. Sometimes its not. but its all we got. so go live. no matter what youve done or been through, being miserable will not heal the wrongs. only living can. 

[thejourneyblog]

I often wondered what it’d be like to be normal. Like everyone else or at least those who seemed to live life on easy mode. And I finally reached that day. And it turned out there was no difference. Except loving yourself. I was here all along. I wondered for so long why I, someone with loving family, friends and gifts and talents and possibilities, was still so miserable. I knew part of it was mental illness. The freeze of ptsd. The pathological fear of failure or .. success. Just a fear of difference. I barely knew what to do with the life I knew. Nevertheless a complete new chapter. I was holding on to the monsters that I begged to let me go.. I find myself looking to the past less and less. As well as stop looking at the future. And focusing on the now. Because that's what becomes everything.. If you think about it. My today is where everything starts and ends. What I'll look back to. What I'll miss. What got me to tomorrow and 60 years from here. If I love today, I can have it tomorrow. To look back on. Even if there's hiccups or inevitably storms. All I have is today. And for the first time, I'm ok with that. Because now I know it is everything.

[thejourneyblog]

I've known pain  Longer than I've known the back of my hands As some would say And yet we stayed Through the tears The rains the storms The everlasting promises Of tragedy Secured by losses That cannot be undone Why do we wait To become Someones goodbye Why is it inevitable I suppose it’d get pretty boring Living forever Promises of everlasting joy too? Or how would we know it If it showed up on our doorstep Anything different Once I begged the universe  To make the pain stop To take me back To whatever was before I came here Now I know Im not living  If im not afraid Maybe that's why pain is promised Not as a price to pay Not even to make the absence of it Joyful Because happiness is not the absence of pain Of heartbreak or sorrow And pain is not the absence of joy Of love and bliss It simply is A first kiss A betrayal So whether you’d op to do it all again Or never in a millions years Or even only if you would never know pain I hope you meet someone  Or find something That would make you Walk through fire Again and again and again As evidence That there is proof of life on earth And that it was In fact Worth it

[thejourneyblog]

If tomorrow isn’t promised 

Why does it always come?

If tomorrow isn't promised

Why did I plan it?

Why did I dream?

Why do I miss it

So much?

[thejourneyblog]

[thejourneyblog]

If eyes are the windows How many times must I look to know Your favorite pair Of leather gloves Your go to song To mend a day A childhood memory That changed your soul Forever in the counting ways Of your stubborn gaze At my hand shake And harmless cade How do I ask for your number In this day and age When what I really want Is to know your favorite page In the tattered book Clung to your waist So I can be loved like that Devoured and indulged Destroyed by your love Saved by your memory

[thejourneyblog]

And so

Life is simple

Love who you can

Love while you can

And Love all you can..

[thejourneyblog]

If all of life Is  a stretch of one day, why do  we wait for one day

[somebodyssongbird]

We are so entwined I don't know which love is yours Or which kiss is mine

[thejourneyblog]

i love thisssss. which kiss is mine if both make it one. I don't want mine back anyway <3

[thejourneyblog]

Only death can promise peace

[thejourneyblog]

I believe everything is a poem The wind between my hair I did not give permission To tangle in the air The dog who barks at the Mailman, For wearing Overalls and knee highs The age old question Why wild oak trees Now made a bed Hide things with pairs Just, out of spite Even my greatest enemy An underripe watermelon With a bitter bite But most of all, a kiss Writing the first sentence Of their children's favorite story

[thejourneyblog]

He asked if I'd come over I asked if he ever wondered About any of the ends In the beginning of the eye Where summer goes at night Leaving sweeping dust and sky Oh too beautiful to die Don’t you wonder why I mind? My plans for the summer Are far beyond my bed Your pillow on my head Why don't you grab my heart and run? Why don't we journey past the fun? Why would you want to stay inside We could travel far and wide So don't ask me what's my type We are more than silly lies  Your scattered endless sky Sunrise made of blush and flame Where the clouds rest and wind sighs Birds flying through the paint My sisters are okay Her dogs have passed away Would you like to see the picture? Would you like to feel the pain? I would do it all for you If it meant a soul I’d gain I don't want to go alone Would you be my great escape?  He said maybe another night As if there is such time

[thejourneyblog]

The first  Poem must have been On accident I could not imagine  Trying to convince art In so few words.  They must of thought it A joke. Some still do. But it is not something  That needs to be proved.  If we are all stories  By the time we die How can a poem  Call a poem a lie

[thejourneyblog]

The first  Poem must have been an accident I could not imagine  Trying to convince art In so few words.  They must of thought it A joke. Some still do. But it is not something  That needs to be proved.  If we are all stories  By the time we die How can a poem  Call a poem a lie

[thejourneyblog]

The heaviest thing I've ever held is an apology

[thejourneyblog]

We are all born knowing who we are. But as we journey through life, maybe we are meant to forget. So we can explore, get lost, be found and do it all again. Over and over. Because that is what it means to live.

[thejourneyblog]

[thejourneyblog]

I've never touched or smelled

Or heard or seen

Or tasted

Something as strongly

As the heart can

To be a human

Is too much

I'm expected to

Climb mount everests

Of the souls of the universe

Or the ladders of a construct

Which is why I run away

To the dogears and the creases

The blue rulers of a page

Cracks of the parchment

Where no pen is my match

And all books have an end

Maybe I can write the gods

A little smaller

And the ladders

A little shorter