cherry chapstick

We can live. By all means, live. Wake up, eat cereal, walk, work, talk, eat, sleep, live. I know I can accomplish great things when I live. I can get a bonus, have a relationship, read a book. Read 100 books. Hell, write a book.

Or, we can Live (did I lose you?).

We can fall in love. Or fall in Love over and over again, and without fear or apology.
Be fascinated by the freckles that make each day staggeringly complex and different. And similar.

We can listen. Or Listen with true openness and tolerance. To even the intentions spoken between words and without speech. Not just to those we understand with ease, but also those whose actions we will never understand.
And to those who are no longer with us, and exist instead in the slowdancing of snowfalls. And cherry Chapstick.

The only thing that’s constant is change, and we feel safer to resist impermanence. So, we can live. Or Live and open ourselves, as petals, and remain passionately curious.

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coming back around again

Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.

And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes

you cannot even breathe deeply, and

the night sky is no home, and

you have cried yourself to sleep enough times

that you are down to your last two percent, but

nothing is infinite,

not even loss.

You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day

you are going to find yourself again.

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F. Scott

destined to be diamonds

It was a perfect day. Bright prisms of dew glittered like diamonds in the grass, although I knew that, as the day went on, they would be vaporized by the sun.

Vaporized by the sun! Wasn’t that what the universe had in store for all of us? There would come a day when the sun exploded like a red balloon, and everyone on earth would be reduced in less than a camera flash to carbon. Didn’t Genesis say as much? For dust thou art, and into dust shalt thou return. This was far more than full old theology: It was a precise scientific observation! Carbon was the Great Leveler – the Grim Reaper.

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Diamonds were nothing more than carbon, but carbon in a crystal lattice that made it the hardest known material in nature. That was the way we all were headed. I was sure of it. We were destined to be diamonds.

How exciting it was to think that, long after the world had ended, whatever was left of our bodies would be transformed into a dazzling blizzard of diamond dust, blowing out towards eternity in the red glow of the dying sun.

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Alan Bradley