I have this idea in my head, that we are like a bunch of glass marbles, thrown out of someone's reckless hand, and we roll in every direction imaginable and we take in the dust, the dirt, the glitter, and pieces of paper with nonsensical words and confessions, and we get bigger and bigger. From time to time, we find each other- we hit right smack against each other with a loud whack and sometimes we stick together, and sometimes we simply break apart.
What matters is we find each other.
I have this idea in my head, that you and I have fallen out of this spinning world. Fallen out of someone's hand, or perhaps blown away by a pair of lips, blown away from all the noise and artificial glaring blinking lights. The night is still. We don't seem to be moving. Darkness, the only thing that is real, surrounds us. We let it envelop us. We dream of stars. We dream of building a place where we belong. (We must belong, somewhere.) Occasionally we speak a few nonsensical words, tra la la, fa la la, just to hear the sounds being emitted as they tingle in our throats like bubbles, and rise out from the roofs of our mouths and drift away. We hear the faint echoes of those sounds ringing in our ears and it stirs our hearts and we remind ourselves that we still exist and we continue to dream. Sometimes the dreams grow bigger and bigger- there appears a sky, a bird, and a place to land and rest. Sometimes the dreams burst and they simply disappear.
What matters is we dream.
"We are all sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins."
- Williams, Tennessee.
But we can reach out, and touch each other, ever so lightly, every once in a while.
Perhaps we are seeds. Sometimes we grow; we entwine together and become one. Sometimes we simply kill.
What matters is we grow.
What matters is we love and we try.