In the early days of the pandemic, I lived in a five hundred square foot apartment. About three hundred of that was taken up by furniture, and the rest was run by my five cats. My momma and I were starved for space, but too scared to go outside for fear of catching covid. We lived in the upper unit of an aged duplex; our downstairs neighbor was never home to keep his apartment cool so the heat rose and baked us in our sardine can. We had a couple decade old window units that tried their best to keep us cool, but more often than not we would eat meals in our car so we could have well-functioning A/C. “All I want is a house,” my mom said while the food wrapper in her hands crinkled. This had been a dream of hers my entire life, I always said if I ever won the lottery the first thing I would do is buy her one. Being in that apartment made that dream bigger, more urgent, something that constantly itched underneath both of our skins. We wanted walls of our own to paint and put holes in, we wanted freedom from overbearing landlords. We wanted to not be scared of eviction with little notice, which is what had landed us in that duplex in the first place. I crossed my legs to make myself more comfortable in the front seat. I stared out at the countryside we had seen so many times in passing, nothing but vast fields with the occasional dots of trees. “I applied for a grant,” I turned to look at my mom and make a questioning sound in my throat, “A grant, some banks will give money to poor folks to help with a down payment. I know we could afford a mortgage and utilities, but I could never save up enough for the down payment,” At the time it seemed like a pipe dream, but the worst thing they could say was no. We would never know if we didn't give it a shot, and at the time all we wanted was that miracle. “Holy shit! Kitty! We got it, we got it!” my mom burst into my room to give me a hug, squeezing me tighter than she ever had before. She nearly dropped her phone her hands were shaking so much. She seemed to be on the verge of tears so I held her a little longer and bonked my head against hers. From that moment on our life consisted of scrolling through Zillow and looking through the newspaper for any home that fit our budget. We didn't have much but fortunately the areas we were looking in weren't the fanciest. We toured place after place, always six feet behind our realtor and shrouded with our masks. “Wow! This place is so spacious and look at those hardwood floors.” She commented as our feet clacked on the floors. The walls were painted a cool blue, it felt like the living room alone was the size of our apartment. It had four whole bedrooms, and a dining room! It was more space than we could have ever dreamed of. At the time we didn't want to get our hopes up, the place was ten thousand dollars over our seemingly meager budget. My mom's door slammed as we climbed into her jeep after the tour. “I mean, it was amazing, but there's no way they'll ever accept our offer,” I looked at her and told her we never thought we would get the grant either. It would hurt more if we never put in an offer in the first place than it would to be told no. It would haunt us to let this opportunity sleep by. A place that wasn't ancient, not too far from family, and had enough room for all of us. She held my hand and nodded, texting our realtor to put in the offer. The day we learned that we got the house, it felt like someone out there was watching out for us. It felt like a blur, between putting in the offer, signing for it, and moving in. For a while it felt like I was dreaming. It didn't hit me until we were standing there in our new living room, with our second hand couch and great value tv stand, that the house was ours. I remember holding my mom real tight, crying for the first time in what felt like years. We spent the night laughing and celebrating, finally able to eat a meal not in our car.
Choose to be whimsical! Treasure the things that make you smile. Your first time painting? Frame it. You don't even have to be good at it. You like collecting things? Be obsessed. Sometimes things can be valuable simply because you find them beautiful. They can be useless and breathtaking at the same time. -Jenifer
Growing up, Sarah always dreamed of making a difference in the world. She was the kind of person who was always looking for ways to help others, whether it was volunteering at the local food bank or organizing a fundraiser for a deserving cause. Despite facing numerous challenges and setbacks throughout her life, Sarah never let anything stand in the way of her dreams. She worked hard, studying late into the night and taking on multiple jobs to pay her way through college. After earning her degree, Sarah dedicated herself to a career in public service. She spent years working on the front lines of social justice, fighting to make the world a better place for all people. Through her tireless efforts, Sarah was able to bring about real change in her community. She helped to establish programs that provided meals to the hungry, housing for the homeless, and education for underserved children. But Sarah's greatest accomplishment came when she was chosen to lead a team of international aid workers on a mission to bring medical care and supplies to a remote village in Africa. It was there that she saw firsthand the transformative power of compassion and generosity, and she returned home with a renewed sense of purpose and determination. Today, Sarah is an inspiration to all who know her. She continues to work tirelessly to make the world a better place, and her efforts have touched the lives of countless people around the globe. Despite all that she has achieved, Sarah remains humble and grateful, always remembering that it is by working together that we can create a brighter future for all. Sarah's work did not go unnoticed, and she soon found herself in high demand as a speaker and advocate for social justice issues. She traveled the world, sharing her story and inspiring others to take action and make a difference in their own communities. As she spoke to groups large and small, Sarah's message was always the same: that each and every one of us has the power to create positive change in the world. She encouraged her listeners to follow their passions and pursue their dreams, no matter how big or small they may seem. Sarah's own dream was to establish a nonprofit organization that would provide ongoing support and resources to those in need. And with the help of a dedicated team of volunteers and supporters, she was able to do just that. The organization, called "Heart of Gold," quickly became known for its innovative programs and its commitment to making a lasting impact on the lives of those it served. Whether it was providing disaster relief to communities in need or offering job training and mentorship to young people, Heart of Gold was making a difference in countless lives. And through it all, Sarah remained at the heart of the organization, always leading with compassion, kindness, and a fierce determination to make the world a better place. As she looks back on all that she has accomplished, Sarah knows that her journey has just begun. There is still so much work to be done, and she is more committed than ever to making a difference in the world. But no matter what the future may hold, Sarah knows that she has already made a lasting impact, and for that, she is truly grateful. As the years went by, Sarah's work continued to grow and expand, touching the lives of even more people around the world. She was constantly amazed by the generosity and compassion of those who supported Heart of Gold, and she knew that it was because of their efforts that the organization was able to achieve so much. But Sarah also knew that there was still so much more to be done, and she was determined to keep pushing forward. She worked tirelessly, never taking a day off and always striving to find new and innovative ways to make a difference. And her hard work paid off. Heart of Gold continued to grow and thrive, and Sarah was able to see the positive impact of her efforts in the lives of the people she served. She knew that she was making a real difference in the world, and that was all the motivation she needed to keep going. As Sarah approached her 50th birthday, she knew that she had accomplished so much, but she also knew that there was still so much more work to be done. She had no plans to slow down, and she was as passionate and dedicated as ever to the cause of helping others. Looking back on her journey, Sarah knew that she had been blessed with many gifts and opportunities. But she also knew that it was her own hard work and determination that had brought her to where she was today. And she was grateful for every challenge and every setback, knowing that they had only made her stronger and more resilient. Sarah's story is one of hope and inspiration, and it is a reminder to us all that with hard work and determination, anything is possible. No matter what challenges we may face, we have the power to make a difference in the world, and to create a brighter and more compassionate future for all.
Jake and Fiona had been inseparable as kids. They were the best of friends and spent every moment they could together. They lived on the same street and went to the same school, and even ended up in the same class for most of their elementary and middle school years. When they were little, they loved to play dress up and have tea parties in the park, climb trees, and run through the sprinklers on hot summer days. As they got older, they started to explore their interests and passions more, and while they still had a lot in common, they also started to drift apart a bit. Fiona became really interested in art and spent most of her time drawing and painting, while Jake developed a love for sports and spent hours practicing and playing with his friends. They still saw each other often and would hang out when they could, but it wasn't quite the same as it used to be. When high school came around, they ended up in different schools and saw each other even less. They stayed in touch, but their friendship wasn't as strong as it had been. After high school, Jake and Fiona both decided to go to the same college, but they ended up in different dorms and had very different schedules. They ran into each other from time to time, but it was usually just a quick hello in passing. One day, they ended up in the same study group for a difficult class they were both taking. At first, it was a little awkward since they hadn't spent much time together in years, but as they started working together, they realized how much they still had in common. They started to hang out more outside of class and their friendship picked up right where it had left off. As they spent more time together, they started to realize just how much they had missed each other's company. They laughed and talked about everything, just like they used to when they were kids. They even started to do some of the same things they used to do when they were younger, like having picnics in the park and going on adventures. Before they knew it, Jake and Fiona were the best of friends again, just like they had been all those years ago. They were each other's support system and were always there for each other, through the good times and the tough ones. As they graduated college and started their adult lives, they knew that they would always be there for each other. They had come full circle, from being the best of friends as kids to drifting apart and finding their way back to each other as adults. They were grateful for the time they had spent apart, as it had helped them grow and discover who they were as individuals, but they were even more grateful to have each other in their lives again. They were a team, and they knew that they would always have each other's backs, no matter what life threw their way.
I was on my way to my new apartment one day when I saw her. I wouldn't have noticed her in the swarming crowd if she didn't extend her hands out to me when I passed her. I didn't stop at first and she got busy on other people. But I went back and gave her a quarter. Her face lighted up. She looked at me with her wrinkled lips parted into a big smile revealing her yellow crooked teeth. It was only a quarter, I thought. When I saw her again, she was sitting on a newspaper spread out on the pavement eating rice from a paper bag. All her belongings which included a bottle of water, a paper plate, a bowl with some coins in it and dirty rags were gathered around her. She didn't look up when I passed. She was too busy gobbling up her meal. I stopped in front of her and handed her a bag of apples. She beamed. She gazed at me with an open mouth and then took the apples. The hopelessness in her eyes made a little space for joy. She said a prayer and then asked God to bless me. Her crinkled hands were thanking me. She watched me walk back all the way with a huge smile on her creased face. In the evening, she was munching on the apples. I guess she liked them. Weeks went by and I gave her a quarter every day. She was always so happy to see me, even at times I didn't have anything to give her. Others like her never stayed in the same place but she could always be found under the old sturdy tree by the parking lot. In rains, drenched from head to toe, she found shelter under a plastic sheet. I wondered what was her story? Where did she come from? Had her life always been like this? Or was it because some misfortune had befallen her and left her homeless? Did she have any family? Where were they? Or was she all alone in the world? A month before when I was leaving for work, she was still at her old spot but something was different. She was not in her usual stained loose old clothes anymore, rather she was wearing a neat dress that was not shredded from anywhere. Instead of the newspaper, there was a basket full of ripe and fresh apples spread out on a mat in front of her. She waved when she saw me. The concrete cracks on her face looked a bit loosened. She offered me some apples. When I tried to pay her, she refused. Apparently, she had saved up all my quarters and started her own business. She did not want my money anymore but told me that I can take as much apples as I wanted from her and whenever I wanted them.
"Hope's Walk" I am here alone to the dark of a desolate beaten path, often traveled and packed by the weary tread of wayward soles. The path of heartbreak, the path of shame, a path so broken not cared to name. Time a wisp to lapse, pain no stranger to drive me through memories looked upon as wasted endeavors. Memories that do bring joy that fades to strife, and comfort that bleeds into remorse. I'm shut out and shut off from the world around me, portals closed and electric off, I peer through the darkness to shout against a storm of internal anguish. My soul a blackened lit candle suffering a tumultuous gale of doubt and ridicule. I strive to yield not to the hurricane of depression derived from what is and what may be. I struggle to lift myself from the well of the fallen to set my mind free, free from the torment, from the turbulent turmoil that festers within me. Faith, I keep, in me, my spirit, my light within. I will walk this weight weathered path that stretches before me, ever optimistic that my second chance will find me... or I... find my second chance. (Image courtesy of www.freepik.com)
Inspiring, uplifting, and heartwarming stories are wanted! With Covid-19 still lingering around, economic slowdown, social and political issues and setbacks, we are desperate to hear your feel-good stories! Pick your best story and picture to participate in our storytelling writing contest. Biopage is hosting a writing contest to remind people the benefits of writing. Each story (or one chapter of your stories) is limited to 5,000 characters or roughly 1,000 words. You can win $300, and five runners-up can win $100 each. (We decided to change the prize amount and award numbers, because we received so many excellent essays and wanted to give awards to more writers). How to enter: 1. Register for an account at biopage.com (or download and register on iOS or Android app). 2. First complete your profile, write a bio to introduce yourself, and make your profile as Public. 3. Click “Update” and post your essay there. Please include a title and a picture or video. Use "writing contest" as one of the tags. 4. On a computer copy the web address of your post, come back to this page, and click “Enter the Contest”, and paste the web address of the post. 5. Share your essay with your friends, ask them to like and comment. The winners will be determined by the quality of the writing, and the votes by other users' likes and comments. The contest is open to anyone from everywhere, every country, every corner of the world. The current contest ends July 31, 2022.
When you truly love someone, it becomes almost impossible to notice the red flags. You ignore all the bad situations and make excuses for them. As long as they tell you that they love you, it is okay to get sad and vulnerable because of their actions. When you feel insecure, it is not because of what they've said before but because you're overreacting. When they make you feel unwanted or unacceptable, you start questioning yourself too because they can't do wrong in your eyes. Even if they do, they deserve to be forgiven. You somehow can't replace them and you actually believe in this nonsense as well as making them believe it too. That's how they become more full of theirselves and know that the other person can't just brush them off. This allows them to have huge egos at the end of the day. They put you in a place which you feel constantly trying and never being enough, almost as in a road with no ending. You become exhausted but you also can't get over the feelings you have for them. You can't simply put aside all the drama that has been going on and can't burn all the bridges between you and them. It takes a lot of effort and courage to finally giving up. Giving up the person who was misleading you all the way to that point. The person who has made you feel not good enough multiple of times and the person who should be accused of not just his/her words but also his/her actions. It's not a simple 'I love you' that is going to solve anything, the actions need to speak for themselves too. You need to trust them since love is not capable to fill the void of trust. Trust is as essential as love and you need to have it too in order to maintain a good, healthy relationship. You should value yourself as well as making them feel valued. You need to protect the love you're giving to yourself because it can't be given by any other person and that's a fact. Once you stop caring about yourself, it's over for you. The other person can give any damage to you at that point. It's also crucial to direct your love to the things which actually deserve your love, not things you want to love. Wanting something doesn't always mean it's good for you. You may not see the bad side of things so it's beneficial to leave some space for you to handle things and not completely be open about it while you're analyzing what's going on. This means you shouldn't be talking to the person 7/24 who is the cause of the dilemma, you will eventually be convinced by them in the way they like it to be. You should be aware of what's happening and sometimes let the mind have a say in the situation rather than feelings. A clever decision is required when the person who hurt you more than a time is the case. You may still forgive them but forgetting what they've done before can be dangerous. Another point is that, when you miss something it doesn't always mean you should go and get that thing. Sometimes you should allow yourself to miss it until the day you stop thinking about it. Maybe the things you miss are just the delusions of your own mind that wishes everything to turned out to be different. You can't change the reality. The greatest thing about mind is that when you actually stop and listen for a second, it gives you the real answer you don't wanna hear about. Another aspect is, the right person would not get you into that much of a conflict anyway. You just know he/she is the one both in your mind and heart at once. Overall the most important thing is to remember yourself during this chaos of feelings and the debate of right and wrong. Because the most precise right choice ever is putting yourself first and showing love to yourself. Knowing that you're more than enough at any situation and anyone's good or bad acquisition of you will not determine the real version of you, it's you who decide to choose what you want to be. You are precious with or without that person's opinion, you are an individual with unique characteristics and hopes and dreams and interests and memories. Nothing, not a single soul has enough power to beat the energy you have. Once you discover how beautiful you are, regardless of the things will happen and will be said in the future, everything will fall into place. You will attract the good and the path for the right to come into your life will be made already.
Please don't tell me I'm your friend Because I love you And I hate Every single piece of feeling I have inside me Reminding me of you All thoughts stemming from you All my weaknesses And tears They belong to you And only you That makes me feel this way Not a single day goes by Without connecting Without thinking Without wanting Without shouting and expressing and loving Just because I can't be with you My dear -friend- You are so lucky you have your loved one Besides you Who secretly admires you For who you are and who you are not For your impatience, your bad sides Your not enough's are my favourite clichés I love smiling when I'm talking to you I miss you And I miss you even more when You say you want to see me too And I hope one day You realize the color of my eyes You look deeply in them and let go of All the could have been's All the possibilities fading away All the unwanteds and unnecessaries And feel just my love for you The words I hold for a very long time Waiting to come out of my mouth Just because it is never the right time I want you to say them That's all it takes For me and you to be the endgame It's your turn To finally admit it was about time And I want you To tell me the long waiting is done Now it's just the two of us In the very brightful morning shine Staring at each other I want you to forget all your past mistakes Your past personalities don't matter Your past acquaintances Let them go Remember me And your hand holding mine tightly As we watch the beautiful sky Ready for the most beautiful story Starring you and I
Today, I will be sharing a story about my 3-months-best-friend who you may have also known from my previous writing 'A Bittersweet Letter To My Sherlock'. He used to be my crush for a very short amount of time since I misinterpreted my feelings towards him. I genuinely thought he liked me and I took a risk and told him every single piece of thought going through my mind without filtering anything, I opened up about my feelings. It was a mistake but maybe it was not cause now we are so close and tell each other every detail ongoing in our lives and today, he just told me that I'm his bestest friend. I felt honored. And sad. Somehow, I am deeply sad. It's actually funny for me to feel that way because I was so sure about being friends with him, I really enjoy his presence and his friendship and I wanted it so badly to continue this way. Apparently, I was not as satisfied or happy as I thought. Especially today, when he mentioned me as his best friend and told me how perfect I am and the way he showed his appreciation towards me through messages and stickers, it broke some pieces inside me. I was shocked by myself cause I HAD TO be happy with what he said. To be honest, I became a little happy but what I felt in reality had much more in it than pure happiness. I still feel the hole inside me after I heard the words 'best friend' and the worst part is I know this situation is not even worthy of thought. I know exactly where we stand and where should we be standing in the future. I know he is never going to see me as what I see him as now because for him, this is the best stage of a relationship between me and him. There is no further scenarios nor theories, no other feelings except the friendly ones. Even if he does feel something, I know he is going to throw it away like nothing cause that's what he had done in our very first talking. He told me I was so good but that we didn't belong to each other, these were his own, sincere words. Nothing changed as I see. I gave myself a promise that I would no longer get into this kind of mess and I'm going to hold onto my word. It's not going to be easy pretending I'm not that sad everytime he mentions a girl he meets, it is never going to be easy to think how we could have ended up differently and it is going to hurt so badly when he will soon find the girl he's constantly looking for right next to me. I will feel so happy for him because that's what gonna make him feel completed and what is going to lead him to final happiness of his. Because that's what friends do. And I'm his best friend.
It is funny how one day someone is all over you and the next day the affection is gone. You are alone with yourself thinking what you have done wrong, what caused that situation, what is the matter.. All blame is unexceptionally on you. You never give a break on yourself, the problem must be something connected to you somehow. You become sad, and when you ask about it and get the answer 'Nothing.' it makes you even sadder. Now you are just sitting and waiting and hoping that everything will be fine soon. It is tiring to wait though, because the answer is just right there at the person in front of you, yet you still can't get it since he doesn't want to tell or can't explain it through words. You try your best to cheer that person up, you just try to get everything back to normal. The affection you used to get, that is all you want. The hugs and kisses and sincere love words and holding hands and passion.. Suddenly all of them are gone for nothing. Or because of something you will never ever know. You can ask yourself a lot of questions in order to understand the situation but instead you'll become more confused and sad than before. It should be that person to tell you what is wrong and why he/she is treating you that way, that person should come up with some explanations. Because even if you make up scenarios in your head, it is a high possibility that it won't really match the reality. Telling yourself positively that it is going to be okay only makes it worse because you may be lying to yourself without even knowing. Maybe everything is actually undoubtedly bad and you are just wasting your time over some Polyanna crap. No. What should you do then? Just let it go. Let the bitter thought of 'Everything has changed.' slide to your mind and by that, you can finally confess to yourself how you are so devastated. Feel the sadness, don't suppress it. Spread out your anger and just let go of all the negativity inside you that has been eating you up. Give yourself permission to feel the loneliness, listen to your inner voice until it shuts up. Then it will all lead you to the most comforting silent you've ever experienced. You will be okay, not because everything is going to be okay, just because you are going to be ready to handle them. You are going to solve your problems by your own and it is going to feel great, I promise you. Because there is nothing more satisfying in this world than to know how you are so capable and strong to achieve things. Never forget how you survived yesterday or the day you felt like shit two years ago. It's you, it was all you. And it is always going to be you.
I am surrounded by lots of people, yet I am a very lonely person. What do I mean by that? Let me explain. Imagine you have lots of colorful pens and you want to draw a picture, you want to create something spectacular. You try each of them but neither of them contributes to that one single drawing you want to make. They are all pretty and unique in their own way but don't help that much on you to enhance your drawing. You end up getting a lovely picture but not a very special one. Because all the pens you use are pretty similar to each other and doesn't match the ideal coloring you want to see on your paper. You create art but it doesn't satisfy you the way it should be. It is a similar situation I encounter with people. Like the pens, people are all different and may all be distinguished from each other by a variety of specialties but they don't help me to get through life, they are only here for today and sometimes they are not even there for me. They are not in the big picture, they assume me as some kind of a safe place to go and some sort of friend who they can always rely on and trust no matter what. I am such a great friend; keeping secrets, checking up to see if they are okay when I am actually not doing well myself, giving advices, encouraging them for their goals, making time for their countless problems and solving sessions, being happy with them and getting depressed with them. Sometimes I can't even feel like myself, I become a shadow of the person I am willing to help. This is killing me and the sad part is, I am well aware of that however I do nothing to fix it. I just watch how I get drowned every single day instead. Having friends doesn't mean you are social. Getting too much likes and comments on your posts only make you happy for a few seconds, then they are all gone. Chatting through messages doesn't help you to become more confident, it just confines you into a big deep hole. You can't get to know people through social media. You can only see a much better version of them which is a plastic and unreal coverage. They wanted to be approved so badly that they almost become strangers to theirselves. In conclusion of all of these, it saddens me to see that the amount of time I'm wasting on people equals to my lifetime I should have been spending on myself. It saddens me even more when people just take it for granted and start behaving like I owe them my time. I owe nothing to anyone but myself. I owe myself self appreciation and love for what I did for people. Because I could be a douche just like some of the people around me and didn't care about anything if it did not affect me in some way. But instead, I chose to be kind and lonely. I realized it had much more in it than to be a self-centered person. And for that, I'm proud of myself. I finally noticed that the art I create with pens is just a vision and the idea behind the drawing is much more meaningful than the drawing itself. So the people who come and go in my life are just the visitors of my exhibition and the real artist is me for giving them the chance to look at it. Being lonely is not bad when you know your own worth. In case it is a good thing for opening up spaces for you to come along and take a look at what you've done, it helps you to see you, to be more you. I recommend every single person to take a step back and see what they are capable of. Because once you see, you are going to start looking for no pens to create your drawing; you are only going to use your own colors and this will be enough.
To the dearest person that I dedicate this letter to, When I found you, I was lost and captivated by the thought of someone loving me completely besides my family. I was so caught up in my dreams that I excessively forgot what you might have in your mind, your expectations, your thoughts and else. I was ready, I was fully ready to open my heart to someone which I thought might be a good idea cause you were so perfect to me. Even though we haven't met face to face, I could feel your messages were genuinely kind and caring and helpful. You really cared about me at some point. Maybe you still do. So I figured that, maybe yeah, this guy can fix all my problems and make me the person who I want to be hopelessly, can treat me well, love me without conditions, make me happy no matter what. I believed in such a romantic scenario and I really wanted to make it happen so I took a risk. I told you everything. Everything from the bottom of my heart, how you made me feel and how I loved it, how I told about you to my friends and said that you were so wonderful which they all agreed. You were that guy girls would love to spend time with, even to date with. I wanted you although there were lots of impossibilities and nonsense and it would definitely be more mindful to act the opposite way-giving up on you and moving on-. I -for once in my life- told someone I liked him. You were that person. You were shocked and were in disbelief somehow. The funny part is that you flirted me all the way long and got me to the point which I thought it was a mutual feeling. I thought you were going to jump on the idea of being with me, that you were going to take a risk and even though you failed at your former relationships, I thought you were going to try a new one. With me. Well, I was wrong. I misunderstood all the signals or maybe I didn't, but you were too scared to be with me. You weren't ready when I was ready. You weren't honest with me when I was honest with you. But I don't blame you for running away, I only blame myself for getting too much into this mess. I blame myself for what I did and wish I could turn back time and took all I've said. You were happy though. You were happy because I shared what I felt. You didn't understand me, not even a bit. You were still kind and I'm never ever taking that for granted no matter what happened, you still are a really nice guy. I just wish you were a bit more open to me. You made excuses. You said you don't see yourself anywhere in near future, that you may mistreat me, also you said your girlfriends cheated on you, that you are not the type of guy to be in relationships and all the other things that completely irrelevant from the situation we were in. You tried to make me believe in some nonsense of how good I am for you. You were so typical, so predictable, I hated it. I hated I was the only one trying to achieve some things. I hated you were scared and even though you said you didn't wanna lose me, you lost me with your words. I hated I liked you but you didn't like me enough. Now, my only wish for you is to find your way. This way doesn't include me and it's okay. You know I'm done already. I wish you all the good things in life and hope you become more brave in future and it would be great if you tell all the things in your mind directly to people instead of waiting for them to come to you. You have some goals but you need some confidence if you want to achieve them. That's all I can say. Oh and also, sorry for assuming you as some kind of hero? You were not even close to that. You were just a dear friend whom I spent my time chatting. You made me realize how strong and capable I am, that I'm the only person who can make myself feel better about myself. At the end of the day, I cried but I was free. I freed myself. I let go of everything. My look, my hair, my height, my face, my smile, my feelings, my body, my insecurities and my mistakes are all mine and I didn't need you to like them anyway. I don't have to suit your expectations. I can only be better for myself and nothing more. So thank you mate, you made me cry myself to sleep, made me feel vulnerable and sad only to make me come in my senses. I figured how much power I had as once a singer said 'I learnt who I was and I loved what I found'. No actually you know what? You didn't lose me, we are still friends. You can stop complaining now :) Sincerely, "Watson"
If days had colors, today would definitely be orange. I don't know why, it was the only color that popped in my mind when I thought of that. It had both good and bad sides so I decided not to give it a pink or a white, but also not a black. It was not a day so light yet so dark. Orange is good I guess. Since my childhood, I like drawing and painting and creating a whole eternity that certainly clears my mind and help me get through a lot of things. When life is not that good I usually find a way back to my pencils, to a new world with only colors and happiness. It's like writing to me, I feel like I'm expressing a lot through the lines I draw. Even if my art doesn't seem perfect it isn't a big deal because whenever I draw or paint I come to a whole new world which enhances me with its fascinity and beauty, I find my lost parts there. Besides, it helps me get a more healthier mind and encourages me to move on from all the bad things happened in past. That's why I find it so comforting to make art, art itself is a magical thing. It shows us, people. Update: Well, maybe orange was a bad choice for today cause now I kinda feel like it can be more of a brownish color. I had bad news lately. But I'm trying to see the good sides of it. Honestly, it's pretty difficult right now to focus on positive things, unfortunately sadness has a deep affection on me and I'm still learning how to get along with it. But whatever, let's keep on my writing. For me, art is not a thing that only appears in museums, galleries, etc. It is a thing which we carry with us on the street, in the park, at the mall, in our own home; art can shelter in different places at different times. When you see a bird flipping its wings, it's art. A cat climbing upon a tree is art. Pouring rain is art, heavy rain is art and rainbow is art. Two people hugging each other is art. Love is art. Feelings are art when they are meant to be and this is how it is so never forget to involve art into your life cause when you look carefully around yourself, you'll find different types of art and you'll realize the inner beauty of things. In art, you'll find yourself. So whenever you feel low and try to escape from things, just remember the colors. Give each moment a color to remember. They all lead you to a huge rainbow and that rainbow is your life with all the colors in it.
While most students were traveling the world or enjoying their time off from school during summer vacation, I was at home. Sitting in my room with the curtains closed, frequently refreshing my phone in hopes of seeing my schedule for the upcoming school year. I sighed and picked up a glass of orange juice to try and settle my nerves, praying that I wouldn't have the misfortune of getting the toughest teacher in my school: Mr. Smith. Throughout the previous school year, my older sister would come home every day and attempt to frighten me with anecdotes about Mr. Smith's seemingly impossible history tests or endless amounts of homework. “So what?” I responded cockily, “I get far better grades than you, why should I worry?” She paused for a moment. “You might,” she said, leaning towards me menacingly, “But he requires every student to participate in class, or else he'll get super mad. And we all know how much you love using your voice.” I grimaced. She was right. I hated speaking up. From asking questions in class to even calling my grandma on the phone, I never had the courage to speak my mind because of the fear that I would say something wrong. And whenever I did try to raise my hand to answer a question, the butterflies in my stomach would take over, and the overwhelming feeling of nausea would force me to put my hand back down. And I despised myself because of it. The fact that I couldn't start conversations with people, or order food by myself, or tell people what I really thought about their new haircut. So when I refreshed my phone for the millionth time and saw that my period three history teacher was Mr. Smith, I dropped my glass of orange juice and screamed. What if he asks me a question? I thought while walking closer and closer to his classroom, Or makes everyone stand up and share something interesting about themselves? But before I could answer myself, I turned a corner and arrived at his classroom. I peered inside through the open doorway and saw twenty or so kids sitting straight up like statues, their visages completely void of any emotion except for fear. Their brightly colored outfits contradicted the concoction of angst and misery in their eyes, along with the dismal atmosphere of the room. Large, colorful flags drooped down the achromatic walls as if they were trying to cover up the bleakness of the room. I sneaked in, careful not to make any noise, and gently set my bag down next to a seat in the back of the class. Suddenly, the bell rang and Mr. Smith slowly prowled into class, his tall figure looming over all of us while he glared into each and every one of our faces, until he took a seat on a stool in the front of the class. He stayed quiet for a minute before talking about his class expectations. “This class will not be easy,” he said, still scrutinizing our frightened faces, “besides having difficult tests and homework assignments, I require every student to participate.” I sighed and waited for him to say more. “I understand that most of you are scared of speaking up, but I'd like of you to think of it this way. Your voice is the most powerful thing you will ever own, and if you don't use it, you're simply letting yourself down. Who cares if you're right or wrong? What matters is that you tried.” I froze. And in that moment I had an epiphany that changed my life for the better. He was right: what's wrong with being wrong? I was born with the most powerful weapon in the known universe and for the past fifteen years of my life I failed to take advantage of it. Whether it was expressing my political opinions or asking questions about biology or astronomy or literature, I never once used my voice without the fear of saying something wrong. I never once considered that my voice was a unique gift that should be heard. I never once stood up for the ideas that I believed in. I never once truly used my voice. “Hey, you in the back,” I heard Mr. Smith say, stirring me back to reality, “What rumors have you heard about me and my class?” I smiled and eagerly began sharing with the class the stories my sister told me about Mr. Smith's rigorous history class. During the course of that year, I debated whether his class was fitting for me. After all, staying up late studying history is not the most ideal way for me to spend my weekends. But after receiving one of the highest grades in his class from actively participating, I can say that his class was the most enlightening I'd ever participated in. He taught me that a person's voice is more powerful than any weapon or army on the planet, and to not use it is the greatest harm one can do to oneself. I was recently assigned a school project asking what -- in my opinion -- the worst disability is. Blindness? Paralysis? It took me a while, but speaking from experience, I can say with certainty that the worst disability would be to have a voice, but not the courage to use it.