Far from home 

I am far from home 

Except I am not even sure where that is. 

I watch those I have grown up with 

My heart aches 

Nostalgia confuses me, and I reminisce only the good parts 

I forget the sadness, the moments when I did not enjoy 

I feel a sense of missing out

But it’s funny because I was never a part of their lives to begin with 

It’s a lonely season for me 

Regret wants to be felt

But I am fighting back 

What is there to regret?

I force myself to remember the other moments, the moments of isolation, when the truth was apparent. 

I force myself to keep going 

And going 

And going 

I look online and suddenly want things 

It’s funny that  

I didn’t think about everything I lacked until I looked at a screen. 

There is nothing I lack 

Only things I can attain 

Only potential that is untapped or unrealized 

I come as I am.

Far from a home I used to know 

A place that serves as a refuge, 

Except it has not been that for a while, 

And I have been in transit for a while 

And I am not far from home at all 

Home is within me, and I am home.

I take a deep breath 

I make new goals 

I try to find acceptance in myself 

I remain present 

I am living a life that I daydreamed about 

I am here now 

And in this moment, this is where I reside 

In a place far from a former home.

A place that is inviting me to make it its home 

Time is on my side 

Abundance is on my side.

a reminder

Pretty people die, too.

Did you know that? That pretty people died, too?

We live in a society. A society hellbent on dividing but not conquering. We live in a time where the perceived sum total of a person is based on what category they fit into and what box they tick. There is an emphasis on all this separation and identification even though, at the very end, no one is exempt from the hand of life and, ultimately, death.

These man-made pedestals do much for the living and nothing for the dead.

And even the most powerful, influential, and beautiful, they, too, remain at the mercy of life itself.

In a world that thrives off on separation and distinction. In a world with occupants that continuously seek to push an agenda that ties our worth, our dignity, and the importance of life itself, based on its ability to meet criteria. Criteria that those who perpetuate don’t and can’t meet themselves,

I urge you to remind yourself that pretty people die, too.

And a statement like this can imply a wealth of ignorance. I am here to inform you that I know the world that we live in (- or at least I am starting to). I see how these categories and divisions create a perceived sense of power and ability to determine another’s worth. This is why many march, many demand, and some ultimately have to beg that other person someone can see beyond the division, beyond the categories. 

It is why empathy is reserved for those who can actualize it as opposed to a universally taught standard.

Despite this, despite all of this, pretty people still die, too. 

Everyone does. A moment, a second, a decision can be the only line separating the living and the dead. We know this, but we can and probably will ignore it. Ignore how simple and how fragile, how precious, human life is.

And so, we continue to polish the pedestals, rejecting those that do not meet the requirements of the pedestal. While others will dehumanize those standing on the pedestals, subjecting them to fates, few understand and speak about. 

A few will fight against the pedestals, and fewer will see actual change.

And the train will keep going. And everyone, including the pretty people, will die. And we will all wonder what the point was and why the pedestals even existed,

And then, slowly but surely, the cycle will continue. 

And when another pretty person dies, we will stand in shock because we will be reminded that pretty people die, too.