I don’t think you become a grown-up.
I think it’s something you feel. And as time goes on and the years go by, it’s something you begin to feel more often than not.
And sometimes you feel grown-up not because it’s your birthday and you know you’re another year older, but on a Thursday afternoon as you leave for work.
And maybe it’s because you’re finally learning how to dress appropriately for the weather, or because you’ve spent the past hour running errands. Hell, maybe it’s because of the sound your boots make.
Or maybe it’s because you really feel happy and together, and it’s something you’ve been feeling more and more.
I don’t have time to worry about boys.
I’m too busy admiring the sun and the stars.
Can we just take a moment to appreciate the fact that the same sun rises every day. And it rises all over the world at different times and looks different for different places. And it’s been doing it since the world was created, and will go on doing it until the world ends. And that a sunrise can turn the world bright and orange or soft and pink. And it’s never going to look the same way twice…
Weekends are for exploring.
For long drives heading to the country or the coast. For hidden walks and beautiful vistas that take your breath away.
Weekends are for catching up with friends.
For going to cafe’s and drinking coffee while talking about nothing and everything with the people you love.
Weekends are for falling in love again.
With yourself. With people. With the world. With the feeling of being alive.
Weekends are for living.
Sometimes, I want to see
Every beautifully sad movie there is
To listen to every piece of music
That is a work of art
To read every poem and book
That will help me understand myself.
That in all the beauty and art and poignancy
I’ll recognise something inside of me
And it will all make sense
It’s like that feeling you get
When you’re trying to think of a word
And it’s right there on the tip if your tongue.
Except it’s not a word.
It’s an entire thought.
An epiphany that could change everything
That could take you to a whole different place.
But I can’t quite reach it.
There are formings and shadows and shapes and ideas
The very outline of it
But I can’t grasp it yet.
So as some of you may know, a little while ago I did a little writing exercise, writing a minimum of one piece per day.
This was actually a lot harder than I first anticipated, pushing myself to be inspired by something daily. Looking back, it’s interesting to see how your current mood and place in life so heavily affects what you write. How a month of being in love would inspire a totally different set of pieces than a month spent alone, or being in a different place or environment as opposed to the norm.
So, I will in the coming days and weeks start to share some of my pieces. Look out for the a piece per day tag. And I hope it inspires you to start something similar for yourself. Push yourself. Fall in love with being creative again. Fall out of love with it for being so damn difficult. Aand then realise that it’s part of who you are. And it can create something beautiful
I never knew my name could be a poem
Until it came out of your mouth