twenty one.

It was the best of times; it was the end of times.

The school councilor was clueless 'cause I never skipped classes. Perfect attendance. Imperfect accents. Speech impediments they could never really fix and I faked bad eyesight so I could wear glasses. Considered doing something that could cripple me...wanted a wheelchair, wanted the sympathy...

It was the best of times; it was the end of times.

Have you ever stopped and considered the value of friends? Now, I'm not talking "Oh yeah, So-and-so is my friend" type friends. I'm talking true, legitimate friends. Friends that would do anything for you. The type of friends that know exactly what you mean without having to say anything. I am grateful for this.

I've never considered myself a social outcast. Sure, there have been great highs and seemingly earth shattering lows, but when it boils down to it, I've always had a good support system. Unfortunately, that's not how everyone views it. There are people who don't have the type of support I'm sure a lot of us feel. There are people who don't have anyone they can even consider a friend.

These are the people that inspire me.

These are the people that show me that no matter how hard I feel life is, there's always a silver lining. There's always a brighter side to my shortsighted frustration, my foolish humiliation. No matter how merciless our ongoing predicaments may seem, we can take solace in the fact that there are individuals out there who have felt more than we may ever feel. There are people who understand our "pain", and then some...and they still manage to keep themselves positive.

Next time you're thinking about how tough things are, I encourage you to imagine yourself as the person who might have penned the italicized portion of this post.

It is the best of times; it is the end of times.

twenty.

Neon, neon...who knows how long she can go before she burns away.

When you hear the word fire, you most likely hear of it in a negative context. Often times a relationship will die because it's "lost the fire" that it once had. Many people use the phrase "burnt out" as a scapegoat for lacking the imagination to keep that ever elusive fire burning. It's looked at as something that has to be maintained, rather than something that should be nourished.

I see it differently.

When I hear the word fire, I hear it as a call. A call to live with fire. To live with passion. I want to accept the challenge to ignite myself, metaphorically. Spark an introspective revolution. Fan the embers of what could be, and accept the flames that come. Without a chance of being burned, what are we living for?

nineteen.

...And you held us in your city lights, when our eyes had lost the stars. And we made our peace with lonely nights, and you healed our broken hearts.

There's something that happens during the night. Something almost unquantifiable, yet it's so visceral that you can't understand why you don't know what it is. Night is more than just a lack of light. More than a period of time in which the sun rests its eyes. It's a time for inspiration. Contemplation. Illumination of artistic creation. Though the nightlife may rage on, it's the time when the dreamers take flight.

So take flight.

eighteen.

Put yourself in this situation: sitting at a stoplight, windows down. Listening to the hushed sounds of a piano, while still able to hear the immense silence that encompasses the world around you.

In the late hours of the night, a place that sees so much commotion and traffic in the daylight seems to stop. Not just shut down for the night, but actually be paused. Do you know the sound of silence? It's like seeing the whole world in a freeze frame, if even for one moment. It's where the only sound you can hear is the residual ringing from the constant berating your ears have taken during the day.

Change setting: The feel of the road rolling beneath you. The sound of wind rushing past your windows. The smell of the crisp night air surrounding.

Do you know the sound of silence?

seventeen.

"Time heals all, gives life, kindles fires, burns souls. No longer cold, alive again, my soul comes to life and paints the world."

I close my eyes, and immerse myself into a sea of tranquility. No, not the distinguishing mark on the moon, but rather a sea of tranquil thoughts. An ocean of hope, making waves of aspirations. Swells of ambition. Tides of resolution. These are the moments that I feel connected to life. The moments where I sit and feel everything I am and everything I can be. The moments where I feel the affirmation that this is what life is about. Growth. Progress. Realization. The arrival of what you want into to who you are.

I am alive, and my soul has come to life and is painting the world.