Ever stood by and watched the life of someone you know get wrecked, almost, destroyed?
There's something helpless about standing on the harbour of a port, inhaling a crisp, salty air, with the gust of wind billowing in your tendrils of hair. In the horizon, the skyline is a pearl, dull, white, but nearer to the coast the skies are dark and luminous and grey, and the tufts of clouds brew and swirl and swathe around and flash sharp knives of lightning. From your safe stance on firm ground you see gigantic waves surely bend and move and grow, creeping up, then suddenly churn and swallow fragile galleons and yatches whole and unfold a wreak of disaster. And you can hear the distant screams of sailors and the snapping of broken ships shards and the crackling and clapping thunder echoing, loud. And the noise is loud, loud, loud but maybe that's just your mind shouting out, in awe.
It's like I'm standing on the peripheries, looking on to a painting that I can't touch. With paint strokes still wet that maybe if I reach out enough I can just tidy it up a bit more, move it around and mend it a little, but I'm stuck where I stand behind a rail. It's one thing to not know, and a whole other dimension to know something and to be so helpless, to not do be able to do anything. It's one thing to be there for someone, with someone, and a whole other world to see them in front of you and not be able to provide a guarantee that it'll be alright, just to do what's right. You can love somebody and bend you will for them, but truly it can take a whole other lifetime to be able to accept the things they do that you don't, in your deepest of faiths, agree with.
There are things surely, to an extent that I'm able to control. But in this questionable position, there's a limit to how much you can contribute, and to a certain level I'm just at lost as to what I'm capable of doing. You can't control people's choices. You can't control people's feelings. And you can't control their actions too. A righteous person would easily weigh his choices and know when to let go and to proceed. Then, too bad I'm not righteous. I just care, enough. I could slam something at the moment, the more I delve into things the more useless and slightly turmoiled I feel. I want to give everything the best I can. As of now, I can only pray that for you, you'll find what you're looking for, what's right for you, and till then I hope you know that I dream to be good for you, and more than anything, you're a blessing to me.
There's something helpless about standing on the harbour of a port, inhaling a crisp, salty air, with the gust of wind billowing in your tendrils of hair. In the horizon, the skyline is a pearl, dull, white, but nearer to the coast the skies are dark and luminous and grey, and the tufts of clouds brew and swirl and swathe around and flash sharp knives of lightning. From your safe stance on firm ground you see gigantic waves surely bend and move and grow, creeping up, then suddenly churn and swallow fragile galleons and yatches whole and unfold a wreak of disaster. And you can hear the distant screams of sailors and the snapping of broken ships shards and the crackling and clapping thunder echoing, loud. And the noise is loud, loud, loud but maybe that's just your mind shouting out, in awe.
It's like I'm standing on the peripheries, looking on to a painting that I can't touch. With paint strokes still wet that maybe if I reach out enough I can just tidy it up a bit more, move it around and mend it a little, but I'm stuck where I stand behind a rail. It's one thing to not know, and a whole other dimension to know something and to be so helpless, to not do be able to do anything. It's one thing to be there for someone, with someone, and a whole other world to see them in front of you and not be able to provide a guarantee that it'll be alright, just to do what's right. You can love somebody and bend you will for them, but truly it can take a whole other lifetime to be able to accept the things they do that you don't, in your deepest of faiths, agree with.
There are things surely, to an extent that I'm able to control. But in this questionable position, there's a limit to how much you can contribute, and to a certain level I'm just at lost as to what I'm capable of doing. You can't control people's choices. You can't control people's feelings. And you can't control their actions too. A righteous person would easily weigh his choices and know when to let go and to proceed. Then, too bad I'm not righteous. I just care, enough. I could slam something at the moment, the more I delve into things the more useless and slightly turmoiled I feel. I want to give everything the best I can. As of now, I can only pray that for you, you'll find what you're looking for, what's right for you, and till then I hope you know that I dream to be good for you, and more than anything, you're a blessing to me.
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