I forget sometimes, you know? I forget that ultimately we’re just as stupid, inelegant, and goofy as each other. Prone to the same mistakes, inviting the same disasters, and trying our hardest to “fit in”.

That last part is just as important as the rest. It’s hard to keep going when you feel unaccepted by your peers, isn’t it? To watch from the outside, as their successes surpass your own. But, don’t you think there’s a possibility? That possibility, that they feel the same way about you. “Wow, he’s doing it all on his own. Don’t you think he could be even more incredible with our help?”

But change is a terrifying thing. Change is the one constant I constantly fear. Maybe I fear it because I can’t find myself in it. That same fear, that same belief, all roots from an identity crisis. A sort of, “am I even real” dilemma, is whirling slowly at all times. I just need to remind myself…

I’m Here

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Upon the Windowsill

The changing leaves, the orange browns
Whistle from branches to the ground

The song they seem to know
Like their roots, they grow and grow

Their apples, falling from the tree
Don’t look too different to me

But if I dig in deep
Their cider’s bittersweet

And when the summer sun has faded
When we’re the only ones around
Look into my eyes
We’re growing older, no surprise
But I promise I’ll take my time
Take my time

When the wind woke up, to take the leaves away
Mushrooms living here and there
To boast of their decay

Take a trip along to see it rises still
The sun we had for us, upon the windowsill

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Whoever is listening out there, just know: you’re loved. It gets better. One step at a time.