Boston

"this is the anthem for the rebel of my youth,

this is an anthem for the risk of loving you"

i have a couple questions

1. where were you when i was there?

2. where am i now?

3. where in the world are we going????????????????

this is a bubble called home



that supports every dream i've ever had since i was small
no matter how big or small
always food to nourish me, people to tell me it's ok or at least just make me feel like it is with their presence
winter coats filling the closets and grass for my bare feet in the summer
help when it is needed
but still space to think and imagine

i will rebuild it for myself one day.
but for now, it's just a bubble i visit once in a while....reluctant to leave.

the treeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees. ohhhhhhh the trees...........

What life consists of right now does not depict what life consists of.

But why are there feelings and memories that, at first, i just could not let go of? Things that ate me alive...not being able to letting go of them ate me alive.

Now, I can't find them.

Will I have to recreate them? Will I have to relive them? I'm afraid I won't be able to.

I don't know what it feels like to lose a loved one, to have an empty nest, to face a life-threatening illness, to struggle through addiction, to go to war, to go through divorce, to lose a child, to be abandoned, to have a handicap, to be robbed, or to have a disorder.

How do I classify the things I do know? What audience do I reach to....and how do I show them how I've felt?

There is a river that runs through me.
It touches every one of these things I can not explain
and I am unfamiliar with where it starts or where it ends
If only I could see them, maybe I could express them
I know I can not control them....

How do you conquer the present
in such a way
that you will never regret not doing so when nostalgia hits?

When I find the answers, my art will mean something again.

white space