The Boundless.

The Boundless.

I wonder what it feels like to be boundless. To be free of the strong ribbons of society and its expectations. To just ride off into the distant wherever, not minding the dust clinging unto our hair. Feeling the wind blow hard on our faces, arms raised up high, lips stretched into smiles, hearts beating wildly, eyes closed. There will be no worry on our foreheads nor fear in our chest. We will not fear death, or hunger, or being penniless. We will only fear not being able to live out the life bestowed upon us.

I can do this.  I know.

It is easy to throw everything -or everyone- away in a snap. I have done this before. Countless times already. Too many wonderful friendships wasted just because I was scared. Turning your back to everything that you’ve known is easy but winning them all back again is a different matter.

It will be beautiful to be boundless. But do I really have the courage to throw them all off my shoulder and ride on towards something uncertain. Into the arms of cruel future with nothing but music and spirit. It will be enough for the courageous. Those who were blessed with steel hearts. Those who are unafraid of the unknown.

Those who are boundless.

 

Rectangle. Circle. Inverted Triangle. Square.

Rectangle. Circle. Inverted Triangle. Square.

I felt infinite.

Last night was a flurry of colors and music. Of arms raised up high in nostalgic adoration, of tears falling. Of smiles and laughter, of strangers uniting under the voice of one man. Trumpets, trombones, violins, guitars, and etc. A night of lessons, of gratifying the ignored, of loving everything that is to be. Of fixing the seams of every individual. Of singing together, of dancing and moving and listening. Of knowing where your home is, of realizing that ‘every little thing is goin’a be alright’. Of loving who you are, of looking back through all your years and I realizing that you’ve come a long way. And that you did it.

It was beyond beautiful.

Beyond what I thought words can convey. It was everything I needed. I cried. I laughed. I sang. I danced. And as that man brought us -all of us- into his wonderland of plain music and love, I knew right then who I had to be. Myself. Simply myself. There is no use trying to act like any other individual other than myself. I am no better nor worse than the next man beside me. He made it clear -as he lifted his arms into the air and closed his eyes to the spotlight- that all of us are the same. That all of us must stand and care and protect one another.

He smiled as he sang to us. Serenaded us with his music making all of us fall deeper and deeper into the wonderland that he created. A wonderland where every man is mighty, where every woman is beautiful. There is no intellectual caste system. No rich or poor. As long as one loves he is loved and will be loved by those who also do.

He made us realize the ecosystem that we live in. That every man is needed to fulfill another man’s dream. That everyone in that stadium is beautiful, grand, sublime. He instilled into us that hate is a total waste of time.

And that:

“Understanding love is one of the hardest things in the world.”

I have a long way ahead of me.

But his words from last night will always echo in my soul.

This will be my diary now.

This will be my diary now.

A diary to put my memories and misadventures in.  I’ve been having trouble hiding my Paris notebook for quite some time now and I cannot bear to think of yet another place of which to put it into. Thus, I took it to myself to just create a private blog and write my days and nights in – afternoons and midnights. I’ll illustrate every passing sunset that I behold, paint every color in the sky and share my secrets and that of others. My thoughts will be confined here. And when I logout, this place exist no more.

This is some sort of  escape world.

An imaginarium, if you will. A world I’ve constructed from years past when I was but a girl of an age of innocence. A world I made when reality was harsher than the wildest wave and unpredictable as flames can be. This world of mine lies in my words and in my heart where  my rage and love stirs within. Where my God pulls me up and my demons drag me under. I am in constant battle as all of us are. I am no different than anybody else. I am not beautiful. I am not kind. I am as readable as can be.

I am armie.