| Recently, I've been awfully inspired by Sarah Kay, the spoken word poet. Youtube her. It's worth it.
She is someone with many things to say. We all are, actually, but then, she says things in a really simple, slice-of-life, gentle sort of way that makes you want to listen. It isn't... incomprehensible garble that's meant to sound intelligent. She's sincere, and she's relatable, and it's really all so beautiful, and she is what I call literature.
Because literature is usually those thick, thick novels with even thicker texts that just blur and spin in your head like anything. It doesn't have to always be so complicated. Sometimes, the magic of a few minutes far surpasses the poignance of one thousand pages.
Like life.
It's in the little moments. The ones you can't hold on too tight to, or they slip through your fingers.
It's like magic.
The more you try to rationalize, the farther and farther away you get from the simple beauty that just is.
And sometimes, it hurts. A lot of the times, it hurts. And things seem all complicated and mixed up and inescapable.
But there's hope. There's flow. There's direction.
There's meaning.
Maybe the pain never really goes away, but that pain will show you what true happiness is. That pain makes things real.
Or maybe I need some sleep. |