Pursuit of Happiness - Free Write

I cannot help but remind myself of the pangs of my past.  When the odds are against us, when the darkness settles around us, we begin to gasp for air as we lay there waiting for someone to drag us out of the abyss.  A swell of memories slideshow as we remind ourselves of our regrets, our mistakes, and old dreams.  The pain lingers and the pain propagates.  These gray memories are mere imaginations of our past, mere snippets out of our lives, but strong enough to translate them into a reality.  

And so we must trudge on numbing, suppressing these painful memories in search for the beautiful moments in life.  This is why it is human-nature to be optimistic, to search for that fountain of youth which rejuvenates our soul and invigorate our passions.  We learn, we share, and grow old with memories which last for more than a lifetime.  We are always in the pursuit of happiness and always will look on to the next day to explore and discover the joys humanity can produce; the smirks, the laughter, the heart-warming moments.  I've experienced misfortunes, but I've also experienced enough happiness to trust humanity and its will to pursue happiness.  

Stream of Conscious: Tick

A lone tick echoes in the night,
Resounding against the wooden panels,
Searching for a corner to settle and sleep without fright,
But remember, the tick does not fright
For the tick keeps life in bound,
For what is life without time?
Yes keep those still framed moments alive,
But keep on moving and living with time,
Every breath you take, every dream you make,
Will be within the bounds of time,
Within the boundless borders of time,
The tick will tick regardless of your existence,
It will ignore you, it will forget you,
But it is you who must take advantage of time,
It is your goal to outlive time, to spite time,
Live in the moment,
And live without time.

Thrives

There is a point in time when decisions turn into frozen moments,

Where your mind evolves and releases a butterfly once entrapped within the confines your echoing thoughts,

When you must stop. And think.

Why are we dragging a deflated balloon of our past,

The torn shoelaces and tattered clothes.

We asked ourselves, why do we hold on?

Dreams of the past cannot be the dreams of the future.

Change is inevitable yet unpredictable,

How then can we depend on the abstract memories which echoes within our dreams.

Because a hope.

Thrives.

The Moon Flaunts

The Moon keeps on flaunting its face,
Beckoning for a glimpse of my eyes,
The pavement imitates its blank light,
And gleams like a dulcet sun.

Everything seems dead when the Moon is high,
Parks, cars, and homes afraid to show
Signs of life, the night consumes life;
So this is what the world is like
without that glimpse of life.

A child is afraid of the dark, of the unknown,
But why does the Moon cast an erie sound?
All seems white, all seems well,
Yet it reveals too much of the life that once was.

I am uncertain, I am fearless,
I am lost, I am discovered,
The Moon is high and the night is quiet,
The night is bright and I am blank.

Exuding with Hesitance

During the coldest of nights, during the warmest of days,
I feel your breathe, your beat, your lulling soft voice,
My chest exudes with hesitance, willing to escape
Whenever my minds stumbles upon your face,
No, I am not infatuated in your existence,
Nor am I joyful during your presence,
I am shocked, I am astounded, I am paralyzed with hope,
A hope to look onwards for the next God given day,
That I will see your face and given the chance to embrace your grace,
It seems to me, your existence is what keeps me safe,
Keeps me grounded to reality, whatever that may be,
You've given me the chance to experience a precious piece of life.

Fistful of Grass

I hold onto mother nature with a fistful of grass,

The soft blades tickle my palms as I thrust them away,

Letting them float away on the tides of mother nature breath,

As the wind catches their wings and lofts them away

Into the endless void of Earth's atmosphere.

Each loop each blade of grass,

Engraves a portrait onto the wind's canvas,

A meaningless flutter paints the colors of the world,

And as that breath of wind carries the grass beyond my sight,

Those airborne brushes will share the beauties with the world,

All because of one toss.

Shades of Gray

Shades of gray harmonize

The roar of the ocean,

With the calming of the sky,

As I sit hear pondering.

Before me, a symphony

Of intricate patterns and 

Dull colors lull me

Asleep.

It heals me, it soothes me

Of the convoluted pains

My mind cannot rid of,

As the dull tones wash over me.

Leaving my mind in a lull,

Leaving my mind at peace.

As the shades of gray consume my soul.