Monday, August 26, 2013

Something I've realised recently: believe in the beauty in things. Music is beautiful. Always. Friendship is beautiful, as long as you have faith in it. And emotions are beautiful because they make you a more beautiful person.

Caring sucks. Being emotional sucks. Not being able to control your decisions, your actions, your thoughts with a clear head and a rational perspective sucks. Letting your feelings control you is weak isn't it? It's pathetic. It's silly. We're silly. But you know what I've also realised? It's human. It's me. I feel and I care and I hurt because I'm human and weak. That's who I am. That's how I roll. That's what makes me who I am.

And yeah. Emotions are beautiful. Sure, they're lethal, dangerous. Vindictive. But beautiful. Think about it: people who feel, feel life. It's beautiful to care so much about something that it makes you shed a little tear late at night. It's beautiful to sometimes feel your heart squeeze into such anguish or euphoria that you've forgotten what's up or down, what's me and you, what's real and not. And it's always beautiful to be able to truly appreciate the little things in everyday. Like that small streak of sunlight stroking your arm. The way lightening lights up the sky like magic. Standing in the rain and feeling nothing but awe at how majestic the stormy city is from your tiny little balcony.

I remember I used to spend hours sitting on my balcony at dusk, staring at those endless rows of buildings rising and falling beyond my horizon, fascinated by the lives being lived out there; entranced by the beauty, the detail, the possibilities contained within that picturesque view.

I remember I used to sneak out onto the lawn on humid summer nights while my parents were asleep. I used to just stand there on the grass, barefooted under the moonlight, awestruck at how beautiful and lovely and comfortable the world was at this time.

And I remember the most clearly, those few rare moments that I've been able to lay in bed at the end of the day and say to myself with a simple smile, "This must be what happiness feels like."

All these silly, irrational and romantic little things define who I am. I like being me. I'm grateful I was lucky enough to be the silly, emotional and overtly romantic person that I am. I'm lucky I feel enough to care. It's not a weakness. It's not pathetic. Don't let anyone tell you that. Caring enough to hurt is what makes us sympathetic, empathetic. It's is what makes us love more, love better, love stronger. Sometimes it's what makes us good people. Because we care.

I care about my friends. I care about my parents, my grandma. I care about old ties and old times, places that changed me and that tiny little house on Kings Crescent. I also care about believing in things. Like the disheveled busker who gave me a polite "Thank you miss". Like the little old lady setting up the family business at dawn. Like the random stranger who smiled at me on the street.

The people in your life should make you a better person. This matters the most. To the people who have ever listened to what I had to say, who have genuinely cared about my hurt or let me care about your hurt. To the people who have inspired me to be a better person and convinced me to keep on fighting even when I couldn't see reason. Thank you. I read somewhere that one of the simplest steps to being happy is to show appreciation. Show gratitude. I'm grateful for everything I've been privileged enough to have, and I won't let any of it go to waste anymore.

To the person who will one day understand me, wholly, completely and unconditionally, I will find you. I know you've been waiting for me. Sorry it's taking so long. 6 billion people in the world and 197 countries you know, kind of a shitload of obstacles. But it's okay. I believe we're getting warmer.

No comments:

Post a Comment