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.