life

Her life is a psychedelic movie /But I’m watching it sober / Let it be over / I clearly can’t do main character.

I am growing / and so are you / at least we know this one thing.

We put red roses out for your heavenly birthday. / Remembering life to forget death; so many seasons have passed since your death anniversary. / In our minds we plant a flower field — we still grow in your love.

When you cast your ballot, make sure you share your voice. As you share your voice, make sure you are the one speaking.

Still, the journey to joy is riddled with obstacles and illusions. Happiness is subjective to time, identity and experience. Though my current perception of happiness will surely change in the future, I know there will forever remain sources I cannot outgrow.

The expectation that I may never see someone again has slowly developed into a longing hope that “later” comes sooner, that “again” holds its own.

Spoiler alert — life isn’t a movie. It doesn’t have an inciting incident, rising action, climax, declining action and resolution.

My story is not only shaped by spoken conversations or dramatic monologues, but also by my innermost thoughts and the millions of things that tumble through my mind and never leave my mouth.

Of all things, this infamous TikTok filter is what made me realize that maybe the Buddhists were right — things may not always be what they seem.