Wednesday, December 2, 2009

sixteen. this green pen.

this pen is green. and magical. not very different from any other green pen, and similar to any other black or blue or red pen. but this green pen doesn't do what other green pens do. this green pen is a window to a very specific, unique pool of words and ideas, thoughts and emotions. this green pen is an instrument of wonder. this green pen and i have stories to share. this green pen and i have memories. and when this green pen and i connect, sparks fly, and i can feel the electricity running through my mind, coursing through my veins, making my face hot, making my fingertips tingle and my heart beat two times too hard. this green pen is my best friend.

her eyes are green. and magical.

Monday, November 9, 2009

fifteen. just look at all those reasons.

dear you,
you were the first ever person to tell me a story when i asked for one, and i always have it with me. you make my day, and i feel like i used to make yours, too. you're not in my life enough. we used to talk much more often... i am too afraid to tell you how much i love you. i love you. i love you.

please don't stop talking to me.




dear you,
for years, all i knew about you was that you had a pretty ridiculously cute smile. then i REALLY met you, and you wouldn't stop making me smile. and sometimes, when i'm around you, sometimes i'm reduced to tears, but they're the most wonderful tears i've ever shed. i stared into its eyes, but it was yours i was thinking of.

don't stop being wonderful.




dear you,
it was the day we met. you asked me question after question and i answered as best i could. after one particular answer, you stopped.. and you smiled. i was confused as to what made you smile, but i looked into your eyes and i could not bring myself to ask why you were smiling for fear you would stop.

don't stop smiling.




dear you,
you amaze me. i continue to treat you like a regular kitchen appliance, and no matter how mean i get, you always manage to forgive me and shower me with love. i don't know how you do it; i am a pretty impossible person to tolerate.

don't stop making good toast.




dear you,
the archetypal best friends are a green hooded frenchman and a common farm animal. and you will be for the rest of my life.

don't stop defining friendship for me.




dear you,
a bunch of strangers at an ungodly hour in the middle of nowhere, and life never got me so high. i'll never forget that night. there was a certain energy about us that moves me still when i think about you. i don't have the words to describe any of it.

don't stop til the sun comes up.




dear you,
i haven't met you yet, but i would very much love to. i don't quite know what to say about you, other than i hope everything is well, because i care about you. more than you know.

don't stop whatever you do that will eventually lead you to me.




dear you,
i never could comprehend why you laughed harder than the rest of us. until you started making the rest of us laugh as hard as you do. shake my hand, and let's end it with a bang.

don't stop crying.




dear you,
a blur of red approached me in the hallway, excited and loud and wonderful. the encounter was only a few moments long, but it would spark a friendship that would last for longer than i can foresee. and i cherish it more than i could ever say or show.

don't stop, no matter how many times i tell you to.




dear you,
a lot of people call you an asshole, but you've never been anything but nice to me. you're pretty far now. i miss having you around. maybe when you come home, we can sing our horribly high-pitched and off-key rendition of journey songs one more time.

don't stop believin'.





dear you,
you once told me that it was really easy to talk to me. i once told you that i loved you. i still do.

don't stop until november.





dear you,
you are too hard on yourself.

STOP. please. i love you.

Friday, November 6, 2009

fourteen. and the little boy who goes picky picky makes me smile every time.

you're not in the room. i don't know where you went. i love this room. it's a disaster, but the kind of disaster that makes you want to fall in love with it. haha, you just cleaned and it's still a mess, it's always been a mess, it will always be a mess.

you're in the room now, clipping your toenails. the bottom of your feet are black because you never wear any shoes. you're absolutely beautiful. i could stay in this room for forever.

if only.

i'm home now, i'm in my own room, in my own mess, my own disaster. it's not as lovely as yours, it was never as lovely as yours, it will never be as lovely as yours. your room makes you want to fall in love with it because the room is so full of love for everyone in it, so full of love for itself. and if my room and your room get together more often, then i think that maybe, slowly, my room can learn to love itself, too.

:)

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

thirteen. swing, swing, swing.

i had that dream again.

for some reason, i can't ever get it out of my head. it haunts me to the point of insanity. it's beginning to interfere with the way i live my life. it's ridiculous. and it's one of those dreams where part of me wants to think, "there's no way this could ever be real"... but my rationality tells me otherwise. i begin to picture the world, and i can't fathom any reason as to why it can't come true. and i start to worry.

it seems so completely irrational, but there i am, sitting, worrying about some dream i had. i have. worrying.. afraid..

what if it doesn't come true?

and then i think that if i can dream it, surely i can do it. and i can. so i will :]

Thursday, October 15, 2009

twelve. for you, miss rockoff.

once upon a time, there was a boy who wanted to write the most beautiful song in the world. he sat in front of his keyboard for hours putting pencil to pad, working out melodies, harmonies, rhythms. he practiced for hours and hours each day, he wrote nonstop, he even composed songs in his dreams. but something was missing. eventually, he ran out of things to write about. the melodies all sounded the same and slowly, the words stopped coming. he thought he just needed to practice more, so he spent more and more time in front of his piano, more time writing, more time thinking. and then, one day, something amazing happened. he stood up. he went outside. and he smiled. he smiled all thoughout the day. he smiled while walking down the street. he smiled at the sun and at the clouds. he smiled at the birds and at the squirrels and at every stranger he passed. he smiled at the sights he saw, the colours around him, the feelings he felt, the sounds he heard. and he realized that all this was what he had been missing. he drank in the song the world sang to him, realizing that it had been singing the whole time. he listened. he laughed. and he was happy.

Friday, September 18, 2009

eleven. eleven. something to wish for.

i don't know what i want.

that seems to be a big problem with me. i've never known what i want, really. not in life. i like leaving things to chance. that way, i don't have to make up my mind. but how do you flip a coin at wishtime?

i don't know what to wish for.

part of me wants to wish for someone to hold. part of me wants to wish to be a better person. part of me wants to wish for you, and for everyone else. part of me just wants to know what i want.

i wish i knew what i wanted.

it'd be nice to know something, for once. to be sure of something. to go after it with conviction, and to be happy when i get it. that would be nice.

i wish i knew what to wish for.

i don't want to be so selfish. why should i wish for anything? let's take a look at what i have. forget what i want. what i want doesn't matter. what i wish for doesn't matter. i don't need to wish. i'm pretty happy :] you can have my wish, if you really want it.

i wish you a good morning :] have a hug. it's on me.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

ten. it's funny how you find you enjoy your life when you're happy to be alive.

hahah, HI THERE.

i don't know who you are yet, and i don't know why i've waited so long to say hello. but we've both been here for quite some time, and it's about damn time i introduce myself. my name is christopher [michael] wade porter.... [III]. :D let me tell you a little bit about myself...

i want to know about YOU.

i want to knowwww your favourite food. i want to know what your smile looks like. i want to know your favourite colour. i want to know what makes you smile. i want to know your hopes. i want to know your dreams. i want to know your fears. i want to know how i can make you smile. i want to know what you think that cloud looks like. i want to know so much.

i DON'T want to know what we're going to do tomorrow. let's let that be a surprise. but the world is beautiful, the weather is beautiful, YOU'RE beautiful, and to be honest, even I feel beautiful. life. life is gorgeous. you'd be surprised how much more gorgeous everything is when you're happy with yourself.

give me a call. fuck it, give me a call at three in the morning. i'll come pick you up. we'll watch the sunrise. we'll tell some stories. we'll laugh [maybe a little too loudly]. we'll put the boom-boom into our hearts.

we'll make this something to remember. :]

Monday, September 7, 2009

nine. just when i was beginning to think...

i'm standing on a big open field of i don't know. i'm alone and my arms are wide open. waiting. i don't know what i'm waiting for. i don't know what's out there on its way to me. but i know that i'll greet it with open arms. adventure, maybe. change. movement in a new direction. good times, bad times. life is out there. life is waiting for me. why am i out here waiting? i open my eyes and look around me. nothing in every direction. the last time i could see anything, there were things all around me. why am i so alone? have i waited for too long? things have moved on without me. i'm lost. i don't know how to catch up.

...and then you run up and give me a hug. and suddenly, i have nothing left to wait for.

Friday, August 28, 2009

eight. there's a low moon caught in your tangle.

once upon a time, there was a little boy who loved the moon. he dreamed and dreamed that he would get to the moon someday, somehow, and he vowed not to rest until his dream became a reality.

one day, he and his best friend in the whole wide world worked very hard to build a canoe that would sail to the moon. the canoe was only big enough to seat our little dreamer boy, so in order to get to the moon, he would have to leave his best friend behind.

well, he looked into her eyes and saw that they were big and bright and shiny, just like the moon. he realized that he could not hug the moon, nor run nor play nor climb trees with the moon like he could hug and run and play with his best friend. so they destroyed the canoe, turned it into firewood, and made a big campfire.

and the moon smiled down on them

as they camped out

under a beautiful night sky :]

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

seven.

sometimes, i don't have words.

i want a hug.

six. forgive.

you were telling me about all the problems you've had... i didn't know. i don't know how the conversation even started, but one thing led to another, and before i knew it, you were opening up to me, tears were rolling down your cheeks, and i could do nothing but sit and stare at you. i feel so dumb. there.. it was..

it was all so much.

too much. nobody should have to live through all of that. i wish i could do something to help. i wish i could say something, instead of sitting here staring at you like an idiot. sometimes, i have no words. sometimes, all i have to offer is a hug, a smile, a promise that i'll always be here for you.

Friday, July 24, 2009

five. dear someone,

my name is christopher wade porter, and i would like to be your friend :]

connections are beautiful. just like you. living in a city with a population of close to ten million.. it's so easy to feel alone. it's so easy to become detatched. people aren't people anymore. a house is a house. cars are just annoying and in the way.

take a closer look. see that "baby-on-board" sign? that's a family car, and that baby is the light of someone's life. these drivers have lives, and stories. they have friends and families, pets, hopes, dreams, fears, problems.

you may pass houses and think nothing of them. but maybe someone is crying in one of those houses. if you knew, would you care?

there are people out there. they live lives, they have problems, friends, jobs, families. just like you. they think, they feel, they laugh and cry, they eat and drink. just like you have problems and friends and jobs and families. just like you think you're all alone. they get afraid and lonely and depressed.

so do you.

you love and you hope and you dream.

so do they.

and in the end, maybe all any of us want is someone to talk to. someone to adventure with. someone to get lost with. somone to laugh and to cry and to share secrets with. someone to call when you can't sleep. maybe we think we want someone to hold, someone to kiss, someone to tell us they love us. or maybe all we want is someone. just someone.

dear someone,
i've missed you. take my hand. let's see if we can make some new friends, maybe catch a sunset on the way. let's get lost. let's find someone new. let's lose ourselves, and find each other.

dearest someone,
i can't wait to meet you.

four. an old friend.

be happy. it's pretty simple, you know? it just seems so... impossible. we're so used to all this negative stuff ["stuff" (stuf), n. - the greatest tool of an aspiring writer] in our lives all the time. do you know what happiness is? don't give me a definition.

he's just a boy, for crying out loud. he wants to make his mama love him. it's easy for him to get along with the other kids on the school playground. everybody loves him then, and they let him into their lives and into their homes. they invite him over for dinner, and he warms the hearts of families wherever he goes.

thing is.. he doesn't really age the way you and i do. he stays like that, just a boy, wanting to play and to jump and to dance around on the monkey bars. to sing at the top of his lungs and to scream from the bottom of his heart. he still likes to get dirty, and he'll even hold your hand, cooties or otherwise.

a lot of us.. we grow older, and that stuff becomes less cool. we'll still let him hang around us, and really, he's such a sweet kid. he wants to make us laugh, and he's usually successful. but nobody really plays with him anymore. not like we all used to. he'll come over for dinner every once in a while, but when he leaves, the smiles leave with him.. the jokes end, and the trouble starts..

and then we grow up. don't know when it happens, really. not too many of us are aware of it. i think it must happen overnight. but suddenly, we have responsibilities and jobs and a lack of free time. we can't play, kiddo, sorry. but we want to. we just can't.

can't.

i don't get that word. it's never true unless you speak it. why feed it? why allow it to have any kind of control over you?

so the kid.. poor kid.. because you think you "can't", this poor kid has to play by himself. nobody has time for him. nobody wants some kid around, and you might think it's too late anyway.

but he forgives.

you can let him back in. you can invite him over for dinner. you can loosen your goddamn tie every once in a while and play on a fucking swingset. haha, laugh a little. smile a little more. go out and embrace the sun. drink it all in, and stumble home in a blissful stupor.

don't be embarassed.

your childhood is showing. reminisce. live. love. laugh.

i'm sorry for being so depressing. i try to be optimistic. i try to see the bright side of things. i like to. and i would love to write more to try and put that gorgeous smile on your face, but if you'll excuse me, i have to pay a visit to an old friend.

because i CAN.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

three. and the rest of the day to yourself.

good morning to you :]

[if this is your first time hearing this greeting from me, then it is very nice to meet you. i'm chris porter. let's be friends.]

it's always morning. can't you see? always.

i am a strong believer in happiness. there are so many reasons to be sad. infinitely many. at any given moment, you have every reason in the world to be sad, to hate your life, to loathe others, to be depressed, to feel ashamed. to wish to be alone, to wish to be gone, to wish you never were. nobody can stop you. pick a reason. any reason. they're out there. grief and misery are easy to come by.

all these reasons to be sad.. and you only need zero reasons to be happy.

everyone you know, you and yours truly included, carries around great bags of unhappiness. in every individual's bag lies all of that person's sorrow. all of her regrets, all of her bad memories, all of her fears, her worries, her anxieties. she carries with her, always, her abandoned hopes, her shattered dreams, her grudges. anything that binds her to sadness. disappointments, self-hatred, blame, anger, betrayal... sometimes, the knowledge that she could have done better. that she could have been better.

...it is a lot to deal with.

sometimes, we just need to let some of it go. there are some trinkets we keep in our bags.. some things so old that we can't even remember why we let them weigh us down. there are some things that seem so horrible that no matter how long we have them, we can't ever let them go.

-sigh- i wish i could learn to permanently lose mine.

i wish i could put in a request for a larger bag. i could take other people's bags from them, and empty their contents into my own.. then they wouldn't be weighed down as much. and they could run around, and jump and skip and climb trees, laughing and singing songs.

okay, so you can laugh and sing songs even if you are carrying around a heavy bag, sure. just shush and go along with my metaphor :p

and we can learn to empty ours on our own. or leave home without them. when you wake up, you make a wide variety of decisions that affect the rest of your day.

"hmm, i feel like special k this morning. i'll wear my old beat up slip-ons today, because who knows when i might want to run barefoot. i should probably wear clothes. FUCK how i look. and who needs that stupid heavy bag, anyway? i'm going to have a good day today, damn it".

...and that is what i wish to you.

a good morning. in the morning, nothing's had a chance to go wrong yet. you get to start fresh. you can wear your favourite smile and nobody can tell you not to. so it doesn't matter if we're burning in the afternoon sun or rendezvousing just after sunset, i want you to have a good morning. a fresh start. it's my way of telling you, "hey, kid. i don't know what you've done until now, and i don't really care. whether or not you were angry or sad or happy or bored.. doesn't matter. you're with me. and you might have cried and screamed yourself to sleep last night, but it's morning now.

"let's make this fucking beautiful". :)

Sunday, July 19, 2009

two. dear you, this is the world speaking...

you are beautiful.

now, what do i mean by that? what does your mind associate with those words? do you think of the person you saw in the mirror this morning? do you accept it, and feel good about yourself? do you think of models? good-looking friends? can you help but compare yourself to them?

"...no, world. i am not beautiful".

someone thinks you're beautiful... wait. let's pause for a moment. the sun is rising over the pacific. do you see it? turn your back to it. let's move forward. as the light hits the land.. what do you see?

you realize, maybe... as the sun beams illuminate the other side of the hill... what a marvelous green that was after all.

you might see things in the landscape that you would like to change. but there can be no change here, not like this.

here...

here are all the things you've lost. you are always welcome to sit and play with your lost toys, but be very careful. it's easy to stay forever, and then how will you ever see what's going on? i can not wait for you, there are many other children to be taken care of.

and here...

here's where you almost lost yourself. be careful walking here. a lot of children end up falling into holes they've dug for themselves before. don't be afraid, though. look at each hole. stare down into it. say, out loud, "you do not own me. you do not scare me. i am only stronger for climbing out of you. and i've come to fill you up again".

ahh. i'm proud of you :]

let's keep going. oh, here's that fork in the road you reached before. ever wonder what might have happened if you took the other route? wait, what are you doing? oh, it's closed off now, and no matter how long you stand there, staring down that path, no matter how much you think you can see or what you might wish is at the end of it, it's not there anymore. that's why the road's blocked, see? no point in standing there, wasting your time.

come on, let's go.

we're almost... ah, here we are. the atlantic ocean. and just in time, look at the sun rising. i hope you noticed something. i mean, i was talking a lot, and you were thinking a lot, so you could have easily missed it.. but we were never alone. there were always people there for you. whether or not you saw them, whether or not you wanted them there, whether or not they were right in front of your face, or quietly supporting you from behind... they were there. and here they are, still.

-sigh-, what a beautiful sunrise. time to turn around again. let's move forward. go ahead and grab your friends' hands. let them know you love them.

these people think you're beautiful.

and they're right.

Friday, July 17, 2009

one. i don't know what this is.

so i don't know much about anything. i definitely don't know much about the world. i don't know why i'm doing this. i don't know who might read this, or if anyone will read this at all. i don't know if we're friends, or if i like you. maybe i love you. maybe i can't live without you, and i'm too much of a chickenshit to admit it to you. maybe. always maybe. never certain. i don't know if i'll update this frequently. i don't know who you are, or even who i am. i don't understand the way i think, or why i don't understand. i don't know...

i want. but i never know what i want. i just know that i do. i think i want.. no, i don't know what i think. maybe i want someone to hold. maybe i want someone to talk to. maybe i want someone to understand. haha, maybe that someone can help me understand myself. maybe i want someone to adventure with me. maybe i want to take some risks. maybe i want to make some mistakes. maybe i want you. hell, maybe you want me, too.

this goes out to everyone. this goes out to no one.

let's make some fucking memories.

maybe good. maybe bad. i'm tired of lying around letting life pass me by. i can't look into the future. it's too dark. the lights behind me are too bright to look back. i'm stuck with now. might as well do something with it. that goes for you, too. come with me.