Where Do You Think Our Souls Go When We Die?

Lovers, Family, Friends + Strangers

We say goodbye, but no one ever leaves us.  They die on the outside, but still live within. Once we love them we become them, and all the people we’ve been with  become all the people we’ve been, and all the people we’ve been  become all the people we are. I know it’s hard to forget about them without losing a part of ourselves with it all. Can I love you and love all the other people you’ve loved? I wouldn’t know where to begin, but I’ve survived hurricanes much worse I’m sure I could weather again. It’s difficult to let go of old people we were when they’re the reasons why we are the crowd we’ve become, but I’ll try to calm the mob in you while adding to your parade, still careful to not let everyone you are  come undone.

Anybody claiming to be your soulmate is probably a sociopath.

This may be a bit intense...

Every day without you is like a week without rain, to survive, I’m forced to drink the blood of the other loves I’ve slain.

Look how you’ve changed me. I’m a vampire, I’ve died but still remain here in a castle that’s haunted by the absence of you. You’re the real monster though you have no claws, no fangs.

Every night I stare into the waters of Lake Pontchartrain as the sun sets, then I dive in and swim to the other side without taking a breath as I search through swamp and suburb counting each and every one of my steps, holding out hope that I will find your footprints left behind, and I’d follow them blindly off the edge of this earth while I fight off beast and thief as I search for a sign that you may not be as far as I think you are.

Though I am the hunter and you’re on the run I have armed myself with flowers and gave you the gun so when I find you my fate is yours to choose, and if you reject my apologies I’ll drag my bloodied and lifeless body back across those slain beasts’ and thieves’ bones making sure I leave a trail of these flowers and bleed all the way home just in case you change your mind and want to love me back to life again you'll know where to find me.

If not, I’ll gladly die knowing that the night is not as frightening as what I see every morning when I wake and face the dawn.

“You know it will all be gone soon…” “I know” “So what do we do?” “Enjoy it”

Eternal Sunshine

My grandmother is slowly beginning to lose her memory. No, she hasn’t been diagnosed with anything because she refuses to see a doctor, but every now and then she will ask me the same questions over and over again. Like, “hows grad school?” and I’ll tell her I graduated over a year ago and she’ll congratulate me for the 5th time and I’ll just nod my head and say thank you. The bright side is she’ll offer me 4 or 5 slices of pie and serve each one to me like its the first as long as I sit through the same story that she’ll tell to me 3 or 4 times. I try to act just as surprised as the first time I heard them.

Eventually she starts to do things like leave the oven on, and forget who she’s talking to on the phone, and what day it is, and what she had for dinner last night, and how to get home when she goes somewhere she hasn’t been in a while, and everybody else thinks this is a reason for concern. Except me. Because I see the beauty in slowly losing your memory as you get older.

There is a certain magic in forgetfulness that God rewards us with if we are fortunate enough to make it into old age. Because after a few years of the mundane every day is something new. An opportunity to experience old things for the first time as those bad memories fade away. In her mind, there is eternal sunshine and that's all any of us really want anyway. The look of surprise on her face every time I tell her I already got my degree means, to her, every other Sunday is graduation.

Every visitor is in town for a holiday. Every birthday is a surprise when you wake up and don’t know why everyone you know is calling you to tell you they love you and every package you ordered is like a present to yourself. You no longer recognize people in old photographs. There is no more living in the past. No regretting old mistakes or wishing you had second chances because as far as you know, you’re still on plan A and everything worked out exactly the way it was supposed to be. Beautifully.

Until that day we wake up on a beach in Montauk and feel everything fading from our memory we will drag our regrets to the shore and relive our mistakes over and over until we bury them in the sand and treat every morning as an opportunity to start over. 

Just don't forget who I am. 

🦋🦋🥊🦋🦋

I want what I want as quickly as possible to make sure it's something I still want once I get it. If not, gives me enough time to want something else.

Where Are You?

Please don’t leave me here with these people. I'm not of them. I won't love them. Take me with you when you go. I don’t recognize them. We don't speak the same language. They’re humid. They're dank.  They’re hollow. Don’t make me love them. I don’t want to. I just want you. I’ll be quiet on the road. I’ll love them if I have to but I’d never tell you I’d be too embarrassed to let you know. But tell me who will you love? Where will you go? Will it ever be as good? What will you do when they don't recognize you or they don't love you like they should? I’m right behind you. I’ll come and find you. Don’t be stubborn out there on your own. They love me here but it feels so empty. Don’t leave me here with them alone.

The Forest x The City I ran into the forest because I thought I heard my name, but it may have just been the voices in my head, both them and you all sound the same. They said you never realize you’re lost until you try to go back the way you came, but there is no turning back now, I’ll build my fire here when it gets dark, come find me if you see the flames. I’ll stay here through the night until there is a little light to find my way, but when you see the smoke, the fire’s died, I’ve broken camp and it’s too late. I can navigate by the moon, wandering around until I’m found, but if your trees obstruct it’s view I’ll burn this forest to the ground. And build a city where you stood with buildings that reach higher than your trees ever could, and neon lights, we won’t need fire. And I’ll light you up at night, to where you’ll never see the stars, but you’ll look beautiful from a distance tourist will come by plane, train or barge just to get a picture of you. Or I could build you like they used to, with castles and with walls and erect statues of myself in the center of it all. Until the hurricane comes and earthquake shakes and the city crumbles to the ground and a forest grows in its place.

I have an elastic heart. My heart stretches to let love in, and does so pretty easily. My heart has no walls, and no locks - it enjoys being full.  But once that love is gone, or you're gone, my heart bounces back like a rubber band. There is never any empty space. That space you once occupied is no longer there, my heart will still be just as full, only a little smaller, a little tighter - there are no voids in my heart. Only love. But just like a rubber band my heart can be stretched again. You may have to try a little harder next time. You may have to wiggle your way in.