I like old, 1970’s movies because they haven’t quite caught up with modernization yet.
I know myself too well.
One, that for some reason, I too have an invisible name tag that reads Uninvited. Two, that no matter how much I bounce in between cliques, creating relationships with different individuals, it never amounts up to much. And three, the tension will always get to me.
Sometimes, the kid in you steps up.
She stirs, wakes up with a quiet yawn, before rubbing her eyes. She looks around at the mementos, the files, the dust that you as an adult have collected throughout the years like used textbooks. She sees the past in them, and the once treasured parts in each one – or the lack thereof.
Her nose wrinkles in distaste, and her eyes sneer, downcast, at the distasteful collection. With fists curled, she dutifully stands up on your stomach and reaches up to knock on your heart. She wants to teach you a lesson on imagination. On dreaming loosely, with your back turned to time and its demands. To let the mind dance, dip its toes in untouched realms, and take your heart with you. Or, if you’re not that ready yet, to simply envision something different, refreshing and enlightening – to take your eyes off of the agenda book, the phone you can’t live without, or even the cigarettes you swore you’d quit. To look up, than down.
while we feel guilty for not having thought of our parents on a particular day,
they receive our thought and recognition of them as a pleasant surprise.
It’s okay if your hard work doesn’t always lead to success.
If your resources, time, loans, money, connections, etc. didn’t lead to that result you’ve wanted. If effort seemingly betrayed you, or the world wasn’t ready to welcome your new, innovative idea with welcome arms.
If the timing was simply off, or someone else “beat” you to it.
‘Cause, I mean…
Since when did the goal of success become so marketable that it’s become a requirement?