NYCdreamsbig
You're a trooper. I'm a trooper. We've both been through some shit that we never wanted and never deserved. Perhaps your struggles are greater than mine, but we both made it. We each have scars and lessons learned. I made it through, you made it through. We can make it through the rest together, me and you.
Society sees creativity as just the painting on the wall, but it is so much more. It can be the new flavors in your mouth or the dancing words on the page. It can be the way you live your life or decorate your bathroom. And some of us know that creativity isn't quite a thing as much as it is a lifestyle, a mindset. You see things and you think and you create.
I grasped the fleeting moment with all of my heart. I didn't know how I would ever let go of it, but it was gone whether I held on or moved on. It's gone, and I can never have any relic except my memory, which fades a little more every day.
Newer generations seem to have a certain flaw: they no longer think. They are a mass of people who follow each other in circles. Nothing intelligent comes out of the masses. They just create "pop culture" and call it art when it's practically the opposite. If they could use their brains they would see the horrendous state of the culture we are creating. And it's not a good one.
I watch my daughter as she grows, her mind far beyond her years. She makes her first steps, speaks her first words, makes the final grade. I watch her receive her diploma while my heart swells with pride, and my eyes fill with tears.
I speak through my actions, from my heart. I know you want to hear me say it, but I can't. Not yet. I show you. I encircle you with my arms, entrance you with my lips. Please believe that I love you, even if I don't always say it aloud.
You gave up on me. I was your responsibility, and you left. You just left me. Now I have to fend for myself with no help, no hope. You don't care. You barely even talk to me. It's okay. Who said I need a father anyway?
You were stunning. You're raven black suit with the bright blue tie that I couldn't let stay. Your magnificent green eyes, your rosy red cheeks, and your brilliant blond hair were overpowering. It was the most magical night. We were together; we were musical. Nothing can top the songs we made together. Nothing.
I don't know what this is; I don't know how to feel. All I know is that what we have is real. We may not be the cutest, classiest, or sexiest, but damn, for me, this is the greatest. Nothing beats having you to come home to. You're my guide, my dream; you are my reality.
The light destroys me. This isn't what they promised. They told me the light held all of my future, all of my being, all of my happiness. It has brought me nothing but sorrow. When one only looks to the light, how is one to find individuality? How is one to find creativity?