There is beauty in despair

The beauty is not
when your tears keep
falling endlessly,
or that your feeling so
low you don't think
you can get up,
and that there is no hope.

The beauty is in the person
who notices you..
they offer a shoulder
to cry on,
a comforting embrace,
and their silence.

The beauty is in that person
because they recognize
what they themselves
have felt

and their beauty is that
they survived...

and they want to see
the beauty in you.

Endure

Every
Now and then I have
Days I don't
Understand, but I
Reassure myself
Everything will be ok.

~sc









Chaque maintenant et puis je n'ai jours, je ne comprends pas, mais je me rassure que tout sera OK.
~sc

My Friend

-Kahlil Gibran

My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear - - a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence.

The "I" in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.

I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I do - - for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action.

When thou says, "The wind bloweth eastward," I say "Aye, it doth blow eastward"; for I would not have thee know that my mind doeth not dwell upon the wind but upon the sea.

Thou canst not understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have thee understand. I would be at sea alone.

When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou canst not hear the songs of my darkness or see my wings beating against the stars - - and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I would be with night alone.

When thou ascendest to thy Heaven I descend to my Hell - - even then thou callest to me across the unbridgeable gulf, "My companion, my comrade," and I call back to thee, "My comrade, my companion" - - for I would not have thee see my hell. The flame would burn thy eyesight and the smoke would crowd thy nostrils. And I love my Hell too well to have thee visit it. I would be in hell alone.

Thou lovest Truth and Beauty and Righteousness; and I for thee sake say it is well and seemly to love these things. But in my heart I laugh at thee love. Yet I would not have thee see my laughter. I would laugh alone.

My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art perfect - - and I, too, speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone.

My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk, hand in hand.

I may always face
in one direction,
but
my view changes
everyday

whether it be
day
or night

How come we don't always know when love begins,

but we always know when it ends?

-L.A. Story